


Pride is not the word I’m looking for

by Fruit_LoOops



Series: But you’ll always be my baby [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Alexander Hamilton is George Washington's Adopted Son, Alexander Hamilton is precious af, Alexander’s turned into a child, Angst, Child Alexander Hamilton, Cute Alexander Hamilton, Fluff and Angst, George Washington is a Dad, Hamilson, He didn’t really we love Aaron, He’s four, Hurt Alexander Hamilton, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, James Hamilton’s A+ parenting, Kid Fic, Kidnapping, Miscommunication, Past Child Abuse, Prisoner of War, Protective George Washington, Smol Alexander Hamilton, Washingdad, Washington is gonna find James Hamilton and kill him, YOU DONE MESSED UP A-A-RON, de-aged Alexander Hamilton, kid!Alexander
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:55:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 35,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28115751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fruit_LoOops/pseuds/Fruit_LoOops
Summary: What happens when Washington’s Aid de camp gets turned into a child in the middle of the war and Washington sees his son’s upbringing was not exactly ideal. Is there a reason why Washington has always felt such a paternal attraction towards Hamilton?Aka Washington thinks of ways to kill James Hamilton 👌🏻
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton & George Washington, Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens, George Washington/Martha Washington, Rachel Faucette Buck/George Washington
Series: But you’ll always be my baby [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2119533
Comments: 92
Kudos: 246





	1. Who is this kid?

Washington continued urging his horse to go faster and faster all the while clinging to the precious bundle he held wrapped in his arms. _How the hell could this happen?_ “Faster Tobias, come on!” He commanded. He had to get back to camp, he wasn’t about to risk harm befalling on the small child he held who was positively swamped in the General’s blue coat. _How old could he be? Four? Five?_

 _“_ Come on boy! Nearly there!” 

And sure enough not ten seconds later the familiar walls guarding their camp came into view behind the oranging tree leaves. The centuries on duty didn’t stop him from entering and immediately opened the gates to allow their General through with no further questions.

“Washington sir! You’re back so soon?” Laurens called as him and a few other men came out side into the chilly Autumn breeze to greet him. “Where’s Alexander?” Laurens asked looking behind Washington expecting to see the fiery red head he’d come to love (perhaps more then two men should). Lafayette seemed to notice Washington’s forlorn expression, as he then looked down to the floor, gut wrenching sorrow making its way onto the young man’s usually bright, cheerful face. “Has our little lion been taken from us?”

Laurens let out a pained gasp, tears instantly making their way into his eyes as he fell back into Ben Tallmadge’s arms. It seemed his sentiments were shared with the rest of the group of men that had surrounded the man many of them looked up to as a father, as they all bowed their heads in respect and grief for the young Lieutenant Colonel. “Sir, tell me it’s not true?” That snapped Washington out of the dazed shock he was still in after the day’s events as he was quick to reassure them. “What! No, no. Alexander is not _dead.”_ He yelled, having to spit the last word out as he imagined his poor boy dying on a mission that should’ve been no more then a simple letter exchange. They weren’t expecting to be _ambushed._

Relieved sighs made there way through everyone as they were told there Armies ferocious lion was still very much alive. “Then— where is he?” Laurens asked. _How in the hell am I going to explain this?_ “Well…” he began “he’s… right here?” Washington answered unsure as he tilted his arms to show everyone exactly what- or more accurately _who_ \- he was holding. Everyone was silent for a moment looking at the sleeping child held in their General’s arms. _Well shit_.

Soon enough the men started laughing at the preposterous notion but at the look on the General’s face it soon died down to a few nervous chuckles. “Uhhh,” Made its way out of a few of the men’s mouths as they scratched their heads completely baffled. “I’m not sure how this happened.” He said when he saw Burr open his mouth to most likely ask that very question. “We were ambushed a couple miles back and we were just about to get away when Alexander was shot by an arrow that I assume was coated with the thing that caused this as next thing I knew… _Well_.” He finished gesturing to the young boy who still hadn’t stirred. “So you’re saying _this…_ is Hamilton?” A soldier by the name of Benson asked.

“Yes.”

“ _Alexander_ Hamilton.” Burr added.

“ _Yes.”_

 _“My_ Alexander.” Laurens said unable to believe that this little boy was his ~~boyfr~~ \- _best_ friend.

“Yes!” Washington stressed.

“Mon petit lion?”

“YES!” He yelled in annoyance. He knew they were confused, _he couldn’t believe it either._ But they seriously didn’t have time for this. _His right hand man is a child. Alexander-- is a child. Alex… He had a child for an Aid… He had a child in the middle of an artillery camp where they are under constant threat of attack. Fuck._

“W-what should we do sir? _Sir?”_

“For now let’s just get him somewhere safe. We’ll figure all this out when he’s woken and we can see if his memories are still intact.”

“Where will he go Sir?” Lafayette asked concerned for his best friend who was in a vulnerable spot right now. _Alexander hated vulnerability._ He didn’t like to open up much about his past and so far all he’d gotten about his upbringing from Alex were a few drunken confessions or a clueing statement here and there.

“ _Ain’t got no family to like” “No ones ever wanted to be friends with me before, s’nice” “I don’t like storms… bad memories” “my father didn’t like me all too much” “I use to have a brother” “No one likes a bastard”_

Even Hercules, who’d taken Alex in when he moved to New York, knew next to nothing about his life before coming here. Well except something behind the whole storm thing but he always said it wasn’t his business to share.

Washington took a moment to consider what the best course of action would be. He didn’t like the idea of this little boy staying in a cold tent, where he couldn’t watch over him, even if Laurens was there. His room was the only one with a fire place so it seemed the most sensible place to keep a young boy who was gullible to falling ill in the cold weather. After all, grown up Alexander didn’t have the _best_ immunity and seemed to have a constant shiver when the temperature was anything less then warm. _“Where I’m from your summer weather is the same as our winters.” Alexander had said one day after receiving some strange looks at how close to the fire he was sitting._

“He‘ll be staying with me.” Washington said with a note of finality in his tone as he climbed of the horse mindful not to drop the boy. “Can one of you please find some clothes and a blanket to give him and deliver it to my tent. Thank you.” He said over his shoulder as he made his way across camp.

He placed the boy on his bed and stepped back to get a proper look at him. The boy’s mouth was in an o shape as he slumbered, the way it was whenever Washington- on those rare occasions- would find him asleep at his desk, and he looked most peaceful. His red hair, that was usually scraped back into a queue, was a mess of curls tumbling down to his shoulder and hanging over his forehead and freckled face. He was just how Washington imagined him to be and was frankly quite adorable. _He’s just so tiny._ Washington thought as he smiled down at the boy he loved as a son. _Stop thinking like that you know he doesn’t want you_. He slowly unwrapped his coat from the boy’s body with great care and he couldn’t help himself as he stroked a strand of the boy’s hair out of his face and gave a quick kiss to his forehead. That caused the boy to stir a bit in his sleep and a faint smile to take over his cherubic face that Washington wasn’t sure if he was imagining or not.

He was taken out of his revery as he heard a knock on the post of his tent. “Come in.” He said not peeling his eyes away from the boy whom had taken over his heart in an impossibly quick time. “We have some clothes here that should fit him a bit better and the cot from his tent.” One of the men said as they carried in a cot that had a thin blanket and some folded clothes on top of it. “Thank you.” He said and watched as they placed the small cot by the wall and nodded their heads in respect before taking their leave. Washington walked over to the objects and picked up the blanket spreading it over the cot. He wished he had something more to give the boy other then a thin fraying blanket and some old clothes that would most certainly _still_ be too big on the boys tiny frame. But they were already in desperate need of supplies, they had nothing to spare and they didn’t exactly keep children’s clothes. _Perhaps I could write to Martha and ask her to sew a warmer blanket and some gloves for him._ Martha was always more then happy to make gloves and socks for the soldiers to keep warm but it was going to take _quite_ some explaining as to why he needed such small clothes.

Never the less he moved to take off Alex’s shirt that he was now wearing as a dress but he wasn’t anticipating the pained whimper to come from the child’s mouth when he placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder. Nor was he expecting the boy’s eyes to burst open and for him to slam himself against the wall of tent trying to put as much distance between himself and this imposing man looming over him as possible. “Wh-what? What’s happening? Where am I?” Washington felt a bit of his heart break at the fear in the child’s otherwise beautiful, big eyes. _No wonder he’s scared I must seem terribly threatening. “_ Shhh, it’s okay son.” He said reaching out to place a hand on the boy’s trembling shoulder only to take it back at the violent flinch.

“Who are you!?” He shrieked fully pressed against the wall now despite the slashes on his back stinging at the contact.

“My name is George and I’m going to be taking care of you for a while.” He said fighting the urge to reach out and wipe away the tears streaming down the child’s face, not wanting to scare him again.

“What why where’s Mama?” _Had father sent him away? He said he would if I kept being a nuisance. No Mama wouldn’t let that happen… But what if he convinced her it’s for the best? Mama left her last child with her husband. She could leave me too! No that’s different her husband wasn’t very nice. But neither is father…_

“She‘s gone away for a little while and left you with me until she comes back.”

“W-what about Jamie?”

“Jamie?” Who the hell is Jamie?

“Yeah Jamie... You’re lying to me! Father sent me away didn’t he!? Is this because I spilt drink over my bed last week? I said sorry. I promise I’ll be good! Please tell him I’ll be good!” Washington just listened to the boy’s panicked rambling in shock. _He thought his own father sent him away? Over something as insignificant as a spilt drink?_

 _“_ Whoa son, calm down. You didn’t get sent away because you didn’t do anything wrong. Okay?” And he was sure of it because what the hell could this sweet, scared little boy in front of him do to warrant that? Or what could any child this young do for that matter? Alexander did not seemed convinced however as he was still pressed against the wall breathing heavily. “Do you mind telling me how old you are son?”

“Don’t call me son.” The boy snapped before going back to looking scared “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. That was rude of me please, _please_ don’t tell father.”

“It’s okay s- _Alexander_ ,” but he just couldn’t equate such a long, strong name to the small, scared boy in front of him. “You can tell me when something is bothering you and you don’t have to worry about me telling anyone if you don’t want me too.”

Alexander seemed to consider this for a moment as he studied the large man in front of him for sincerity with those dark blue- purpley eyes that the boy didn’t even know held so much power over him.

“I’m four.” Alex muttered holding four grubby fingers up to show the General with a sheepish smile that made the esteemed, stone faced General’s heart melt. _Bloody hell get a hold of your self, what happened to you?_ But he couldn’t bring himself to even regret it as he looked at the shy baby sat on his bed, a far cry from the man he’d grow to be. “Well aren’t you a big boy.” He smiled and let out a light chuckle at how Alex eagerly nodded his head. “Uh huh! I’m four and a _half_!” He said proudly as if it was the most extraordinary thing ever. _Damn him and his adorable lisp and gappy teethed smile._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who don’t know Alexander’s mother was previously married before she met Hamilton and she had a son with him but she ran away as her husband was abusive and she left her son with him. So that’s why I sort of added that bit where Alex is scared they left him as his mother had done it to a child before.


	2. I’m coming for you

Washington thought it utterly adorable how shy the boy was. How the hell does this blushing, nervous child grow up to be his loud mouthed, impulsive boy? “Why don’t we get you into some more fitting clothes, aye?” He said when he thought the child had calmed down enough. It seemed however he must’ve said the wrong thing as the boy suddenly stiffened up again and looked at him with an undistinguishable emotion. “N-no it’s okay, these are okay.” The boy said.

“Don’t be silly you’ll fall over if you try to walk in that.”

“C-can I do it?” He asked quietly, as if he was scared to be asking for something.

“Don’t you need any help? It might be hard getting that shirt off.”

The boy was quiet for a second. He clearly still didn’t like the idea but looked too scared to try ask again. _How very un-Alexandery. “_ C-can you close your eyes?” He said it so quietly Washington wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. _He’s four why is he so scared to be seen undressed? Do four year olds even know the meaning of the word privacy?_ Perhaps it’s an entirely reasonable suggestion and he’s just basing too much off the experiences he had with Martha’s children when they were this age. He was a stranger to the boy after all and it’s good he knows about personal boundaries at such a young age. It’s a horrible world we live in. But Washington couldn’t help feel there was something else to it. “Okay,” he agreed, not wanting to make the child uncomfortable. But after he helped the boy lift of his shirt and heard a slight hiss he instinctively opened his eyes to see if he was alright.

He wished he didn’t… oh boy he wished he didn’t, because what he saw made ice fill his veins and fire fill his heart. _Somebodies going to die for this_. The too tight skin above the malnourished boy’s visible ribs was painted purple as if a clenched fist had repeatedly slammed into him at full force. There were visible hand prints on the boy’s shoulders with bloodied marks where finger nails must have been forcefully dug in - _that must have been why he flinched when I tried to touch him there earlier-_ and his small back had red lines, some slightly cut open, that could only have been made by the harsh swings of a belt. _I’m coming for you Hamilton. And you better pray to God I never find your sorry ass because if I do, you’ll regret ever being born._ Washington quickly clenched his teeth to avoid making a sound that would notify the boy that he had seen him. He quickly closed his eyes again and started helping pull the new shirt on, making sure his hands were much gentler now on the sensitive skin. He opened his eyes again to see the boy looking at him with admiration and appreciation as if the clothes he gave him weren’t old and used and at least three sizes too big for him. He rolled the sleeves and trouser legs up slightly knowing they’d just roll back down again on his skinny arms. The trousers seemed to have been cut at the bottom to make them shorter for the boy but the torn fabric still hung below his ankles. _He was definitely going to need a belt to hold his clothes up._ “Thank you.” He said gratefully “I _promise_ to repay you.”

“It’s no problem my boy.” He said, patting the child’s head and using the opportunity to sweep some of the messy locks out of his face. Alex looked like he wanted to protest as he looked at him confused by the kind gesture. _What does he mean? He doesn’t want me to repay him?_ _He’s just going to give them to me?_ “I think you could do with a belt though.” Washington declared turning around to go look for one, missing the look of utter horror that passed the boy’s face. _Oh no oh no oh no. So there is a price. Of course there’s a price you idiot why would he want to spend money on an annoyance like you?_

Washington turned back around with a belt in hand, but he froze when he saw the child cowering in front of him, hands covering his face and curled tight into a protective ball. “ _Please,”_ he squeaked “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’ll be good, y-you c-can have the c-clothes back just _please._ Je suis desolé.” Washington quickly dropped the belt to the floor and lowered himself to his knees, so he wasn’t as imposing to the boy, then he gently pulled the child’s shaking arms away from his face. “Whoa, it’s okay kid. I wasn’t- I wasn’t going to hurt you.” Washington gulped. His poor boy.

“Y-you weren’t?” The cry of terror tour at Washington’s war hardened heart. _Fucking run Hamilton. Cuz I will be coming for you._

“ _No.”_ He emphasised “listen.” He said tilting the boy’s head up, despite the flinch, so he was looking into his eyes. “I will never, _ever_ hurt you. You haven’t done anything bad and even if you had, the worst I’d give you is a quick swat to the bum or a time out. You don’t deserve to be hurt and whoever made you feel that you do deserve to be is _wrong._ So, _so_ wrong. Understand?” Washington had tears in his eyes at this point and he had to stop the sob that nearly broke out of his mouth when he saw the disbelieving, confused face of a boy who’d only ever been taught that he _deserved_ everything he got and that he was just a waste of space, that he needed to make himself _useful._ A boy who was made to thank his father for attempting to _better_ his worthless son after every punishment.

Alex nodded. He didn’t believe the man one bit. He’d go back on his promise when he sees that I deserve it. When I annoy him or when I mess up and he sees how _stupid_ and _incompetent_ I am. He’s probably already mad at me for being _weak_ and _pathetic_ and crying- father would be… I’m not like other children, they’re good so they get treated nicely. But I’m not. Father was only trying to better me because he _loves_ me. He wouldn’t hurt me for no reason. It’s not his fault he got saddled with me for a bastard son. Even God hates bastards so really I should be thankful father even cares to acknowledge my existence. Father is _good._

Washington sighed, standing up and offering his hand to the boy, desperately trying not to notice how he still shied away from the raised hand before taking the offer and climbing to his feet on the now messy bed. Washington slowly picked the belt off the floor again, Alex’s eyes widened as he watched every tiny movement. “I’m just going to tie this around your shirt and trousers, okay?” Alex studied him for a moment. _He seems honest. Maybe he doesn’t mind crying? Maybe I haven’t annoyed him? Yet…_ he nodded again to give him permission but screwed his eyes tightly shut as the man wrapped it around him, fully expecting for the sound of it whistling through the air to poison his young, fragile ears. But it never came and soon he had a belt looped twice around his small waist pulling in the baggy shirt and trousers at the middle.

Washington offered him a reassuring smile after but it was easy to see the sadness in the man’s eyes. _Great, he’s been so kind to you and even given you new clothes and you hurt his feelings, you’re so spiteful._

There was suddenly a knock on the post of the tent causing Alex to practically leap out his skin and cower when he saw another man enter.

“Whoa sorry for startling you kid... I’m John.” The man smiled. On those sparse nights where John and Alex managed to escape the public’s judgmental eyes and catch a few moments to their selves without having to worry about being caught. On the nights where they were held in each other’s warm arms, shielding each other from the cold snow and torrential rains. On those nights where their hands trailed each other’s skin, exploring parts of each other that two men simply shouldn’t explore. John had seen the faint scars, the final remnants of a past Alexander tried to push away and bury deep in shame. But John didn’t need him to tell him where he acquired those scars as he had his own almost matching marks, covering his back and arms, he gathered after years of being a disappointment to his own father, sinning against the God his father worshipped so highly. So in that way he understood this child in front of him. Though their experiences may differ, be it for better or worse, he could understand this child and it pained him to imagine his Alex going through any of the same stuff as he did.

Alex’s eyes however lit up like stars (a perfect simile given his eyes already resembled the colour of the galaxy) when they landed on the plate of food in John’s hand. “I brought you some food darlin’ I figured you must be starving.” He remarked softly, as he handed the plate to Alex.

Washington smiled at John’s thoughtfulness when he caught sight that the food was cut up into pieces. Laurens had practically raised his siblings after all, and he’d be a good candidate to help take care of Alex if he ever needed it, especially since he knew John would rather lay down his own life then have harm befall on Alexander. Washington didn’t miss the love sick looks the two constantly sent each other.

“Thank you John.” He said and looked back down to his boy, only instead of finding a practically starved four year inhaling the food, he found a pair of broken eyes looking up at him in a silent request for permission. George’s heart sank at the meaning of the look, _he was asking for permission to eat?_ His face was a mess of emotions, shock, horror and raw pain clouded his features as he looked at his little boy. Washington had never experienced the horrors of poverty, he spent his entire life in the lap of luxury. He didn’t understand the feeling of going to bed hungry or having to savour what ever food he could get hands on. But that didn’t explain the look the boy had as if he thought he wasn’t _allowed_ to eat. No, there’s more to his starved stature then just the inability to have food because of financial means. He tried to open his mouth but he choked on his own words and found that he couldn’t seem to locate his voice.

The little boy apparently took the horrified look on George’s face and his silence as a _no,_ and there fore turned around to face John “Thank you, but I am not very hungry.” His voice was small, broken and betrayed as he subconsciously held his growling tummy.

“Alex, were you asking my permission to eat?” George pushed the words out over the ever growing lump in his throat, and at the look he gave him, he knew the answer. He pulled the boy into his arms as he sat on the bed and turned him around to face him. “You don’t need to ask for permission to eat, you can eat whenever you’re hungry until you no longer are. I promise you I will _never_ withhold food from you and I’ll make sure there’s always enough to have.” He tried to keep his voice firm, yet gentle: offering the boy an encouraging smile when he nodded his head slowly and reached for the plate again. He pressed a kiss to the child’s soft head and shared a look with John. He meant every word he said, his boy would always have food even in a camp where it was scarce, he’d make sure of it. Even if that meant going hungry himself he didn’t care because _that’s, what a real parent, does._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found out I was going to be an Aunt today! So excited because I’m in my teens but I’m still the baby in the family so finally there will be kid to play with and take the attention of me lol


	3. Bed time stories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long but I had major writers block and then my sister came home for the holidays so I couldn’t get myself to focus. But I have been hit with inspiration and have figured out how I want this story to go so! 
> 
> It’s three in the morning and I have an eye appointment early so I haven’t read through this so sorry for any mistakes 😬

Alex had finished all the food under Washington’s watchful eyes and now with a full belly, he struggled to keep his drooping eyes open. “Do you want to lie down again s- kid? It’s been a confusing day.” His question was met with the vigorous shake of a head even as the child continued rubbing his eyes with a tiny clenched fist and Washington awed at the adorable sight of his son trying in vain to stifle a small yawn. George remembered this dance very well and he smiled at the memories of his dear Patsy doing the same thing, what felt like centuries ago. But that memory, along with the others he had of his step-daughter and son, Jacky, was tinged with grief at the child shaped holes that had been left in both his and Martha’s hearts at their too soon passings.

”No’ sleepy. Don’ wanna.” Alex said, hints of the stubborn man who always said the same thing when George and all the other aids told him to go to bed. Though the refusal was much more fitting on an _actual_ child. He had to grow up so fast it’s no wonder he still had these childish moments. And Alex- _like most of his men_ \- was barely into adulthood anyway.

”Mmm hmm.” George said incredulously pretending to go along with the tots game. “I have some things I need to do but if you want you can do a drawing? Or I could ask John to come back and take you for a walk or a play outside before it gets dark?” The boy considered this for a moment. He really was tired but the thought of going to sleep scared him. _That’s when the monsters come out._ “Can I do a drawing?” Alex asked looking hopeful before realising his error and quickly adding- “please?” 

“Of course.” George said opening the flaps and walking into the connected tent where his and his aids desks sat and called the boy over too him. It was empty in there which was unusual as usually Alexander was in there at all hours of the day writing away and his other aids would come to socialise in the warmth these tents provided. But it seemed everyone decided to give them space to which he was grateful. “Sit right here,” George said placing down paper and a pencil on the most tidy desk, which belonged to Ben Tallmadge, before gently helping the short boy onto the seat: Alexander’s desk was _far_ too cluttered in what the young man called ‘organised mess’ and no one dared touch anything on it unless they desired a four hour long lecture on how they’d destroyed the entire pattern of his work space. “Thank you.” Alex smiled, quickly pulling the paper towards him and becoming immersed in his drawing. Washington went over to his own desk and began looking over the letters that had been marked for his eyes only but kept glancing over at the child who was happily swinging his legs and muttering stuff under his breath- much like his older counterpart did when focusing.

They sat in comfortable silence until Washington heard the boy push the paper away from him and tilt his head as he examined his art work. “Done?” He asked to which he received a shy nod “Can I see?” The boy nervously walked over and unwillingly passed him the paper, quickly sticking a thumb in his mouth and closing his eyes as he waited to be belittled. He jumped a bit at the sudden gentle pat on his head but calmed when he saw the warm, _proud_ smile gracing the man’s lips.   
  


The drawing was what looked like a beach but instead of just shading in the different parts he’d written the name of each thing over and over to fill up the blank spaces to make a sort of word art. _Figures._ “Well done s- kid this is _really_ good!” He said genuinely.   
“Really!?” The boy squeaked “that’s the sun,” he remarked pointing at the circle with the word ‘ _sun’_ written repeatedly in it. “I can see that!” George chuckled at the obviousness of the statement. “It’s really good Alexander. The words are all really neat and tidy but you spelled one word a bit wrong- sea when you’re talking about the watery sea is S-E-A. S-E-E is when you’re talking about see _ing_ something.” George informed gently hoping not to upset the child but feeling the need to teach the boy to help him in the future.

”Sorry,” Alex whispered looking at his feet.   
“It’s okay kiddo! It’s an easy mistake. One someone your age wouldn’t be expected to know.” He assured, tilting the child’s chin up a bit to smile at him. _And it was true_. He was four years old, George found it incredible he could even read. _My_ _clever boy._ “Are you ready to go to sleep yet?” It was a stupid question and he should’ve expected the shake of the head he received. “Really? Because I think you are.” It had been a long day and it must have been around seven in the evening now and since he’d be a child for the foreseeable future he’d like to get the child into some semblance of a bed time.   
  


“How about I tell you a story?” Washington suggested seeing the boy’s reluctance. Something seemed to switch in the boy then as his slight look of dread changed to one of hope and glee as he looked at George with wide eyes of awe and bounced slightly from foot to foot. “Really? Will you really tell me one?”

”Yep. But only if you’re good and go to bed now-“ he didn’t even need to finish the sentence as he was interrupted with a quick “Okay!” and watched with fond amusement as the boy raced into the other tent again and climbed onto the bed he’d woken up on earlier. George didn’t have the heart to move him to the uncomfortable cot everyone but Generals were afforded. _Let him have the bed, he deserves it._ “Eager are we?” He teased and laughed at the excited nod he received. “Uh huh! Jamie sometimes tells me stories- but they’re scary ones...” he said suddenly looking around worried, expecting a wolf or an ogre to suddenly jump out at him like Jamie always described. “Well there’ll be non of that, now let’s make you comfier.” George said as he carefully removed the belt he’d looped round the child less then two hours ago, and pulled of the breeches leaving him in the long shirt. He grabbed the thin blanket that had been given for Alex to sleep in and wrapped it around the boy so he had an extra layer of warmth, before lifting up the covers of his bed and letting the child crawl under.   
  


“Comfy?” He asked as he gently sat at the edge of the bed and began searching his mind for a story that would be of interest to the young child who no doubt was still as curious and adventurous as his elder self. At the nod he began the story, a favourite of Patsy and Jacky’s when they were young.

“Once upon a time, a boy named Aladdin lived far, far away in the east. He lived with his mother and supported her by selling fruits at the market. One day the palace magician came to the market looking for him. ‘Come with me Aladdin, I have something to show you’, he said. He went with him. The magician led him deep into the desert. They reached the mouth of an immense cave, blocked by a massive rock. The magician stopped and began to say a spell. ‘Sala, Sala! Paprika! Alabra!’, the magician said by which the massive rock removed automatically.”

Alex giggled slightly at the voice George was doing and the weird words the magician said.

“Aladdin was so shocked. ‘Go into the cave and bring me golden lamp you will find there. Touch nothing but the lamp!’, the magician said. He was frightened because the passage into the cave was dark. The magician saw his hesitation and handed him a ring with a big gemstone. ‘Take this ring, it will protect you if anything goes wrong’, the magician said. He went inside. The cave overflowed with glittering gems and gold coins. Beneath a tree laden with treasures stood and an old lamp. ‘This must be it! But why would he want something so old and worthless? I should take one for my mother as well,’ he wondered.”

“But he said not to touch anything! But why _does he_ just want the lamp?” Alex asked to invested in the story to think about how angry interrupting made his father until it was too late. “Sorry,” he muttered but instead of the slap he was expecting he instead got a light pat on the head “Patience my boy,” George chuckled before continuing with the story.

“The moment Aladdin snatched the treasure, the whole cave began to shake with a thunderous booming sound.”

”Oh no!” Alex cried placing both hands on both his cheeks in mock horror.

”He took the magic lamp and ran towards the mouth of the cave. He asked the magician for help but he just wanted the lamp and told him to throw it. The way for entry and exit was now closed. He was left all alone in the dark, terrified. ‘It’s so dark and cold here! I want to go home to my mother’, he cried.”

Alex looked down sadly at this. _I miss my Mommy too._ This is why you shouldn’t trust people!

“He rubbed the gemstone on the ring that the magician gave him and suddenly it began to glow until it’s light filled the cave. The bright light was gone away and carried him home. Stunned, as he looked at the ring and saw that the gemstone had vanished.”

”Whooooa. Magic!” Alex exclaimed causing another laugh to pass through George.

“Aladdin told his mother all about his adventure in the cave and about the magician and his ring. ‘Mom, take a look at the magical lamp’, he said. His mom rubbed it and suddenly, something incredible happened. A genie appeared and asked him for a wish. He was frightened but was excited that the genie could grant him anything he wanted! He commanded him to get the same delicious food as they had at the palace. Within moments, a table loaded with tasty dishes appeared before him. The genie’s magic made Aladdin very wealthy. One day, he came to the Sultan with magnificent gifts and treasures. ‘Your majesty, I have come to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage’, he said.”

Alexander scoffed at that before saying “That’s rude, he doesn’t even know her!”   
“Very true Alex, that’s a good way to think, but just you wait-“

“The Sultan was very pleased, but the princess was unimpressed by his treasures.”

”Ha!”

“He was disappointed and did not want to give up on the beautiful princess. He asked the genie to help him and then the genie created a magic carpet. The magician, who was watching him from across the room realized that he had the magic lamp. Turning to the Sultan, he told him to order Aladdin to raise a new palace as he took the princess on the ride through the sky on his magic carpet, and they had a wonderful time. Touched by his kindness and the beauty that he showed her, the princess decided to open her heart to him.”

”He’s still a peasant nobody who is unworthy of that of a princess!”   
“When it comes to love Alexander, it doesn’t matter who you are and where you’re from. And just because you aren’t born with much doesn’t make you any less worthy then that of a prince.” He lectured _desperately_ wanting the child to understand that. His Alexander wasn’t worthless and he’d rise above the life of poverty he was currently living in and one day he’d the world. He _truly_ believed that but the boy couldn’t do that if these were the views he was holding of society. “Okay,” Alex said feeling it best to just agree even though he didn’t really understand. Of _course_ it mattered. He was born a no one he would die a no one.

“As soon as he returned from his magic carpet ride with the princess, the Sultan ordered him to build a palace. Aladdin rubbed the magic lamp and asked the genie if he could build a palace for him. Genie agreed and in some minutes he made a beautiful palace for his master. Aladdin was now able to marry the princess. However, the magician was still unhappy. He felt that the magic lamp should have been his and that Aladdin had stolen it from him.”

”Well he shouldn’t have left Aladdin in the cave and then maybe he would’ve shared his wishes!”

“One day, the magician came to visit Aladdin’s palace when Aladdin himself was out hunting. He disguised himself as a merchant and wound a turban around his head. ‘I buy old lamps! I can exchange an old lamp with the new one’, the magician said. The princess exchanged the magic lamp with the new one.”

”Oh no! He should’ve told her!”

”The magician’s evil plan worked perfectly. Now that he had the lamp, he wanted to use it to take the princess and Aladdin’s palace for himself. He commanded genie to take Aladdin’s palace and move it to a far-off desert along with the princess. When Aladdin returned home, he was shocked to see that everything has vanished. His mother had just come back from the market and was too confused and amazed. Aladdin searched far and wide for the princess. Finally, he heard that the magician was now living in the desert in his palace with the princess. The princess hugged Aladdin when he saw him and told him everything.”

”The poor Princess!”

”Aladdin and the princess secretly slipped a sleeping pill into the magician’s wine. As soon as the magician drifted off to sleep, Aladdin snatched the magic lamp from his belt and rubbed it. He ordered the genie to move the palace back to where it was and leave the magician alone in the desert. One day, Aladdin brought the magic lamp to the sea-shore and rubbed it. The genie asked Aladdin about his wish. Aladdin said,’You have granted so many of my wishes. I want to repay you by letting you free.’  
‘Of all my many, many masters, not one has ever wished something for me! You are so kind!’, genie cried. The genie got free and Aladdin tossed the empty magic lamp into the sea and lived out his days in happiness and love, without envy or greed. The end.”

”That ‘s nice of ‘laddin,” Alex yawned. “Fank you.” He was obviously fighting off sleep, tooth and nail but George could tell he wouldn’t last much longer and so he softly began stroking the boys hair and gently hummed a song his mother had once sung to him when he was a lad. It took less then thirty seconds for Alex’s eyes to fully droop shut and for his breaths to become shallow as he was finally taken by sleep.   
  


George allowed himself to relax when he saw the child at ease and he moved to give him a kiss on the forehead. _He loved him so much._ He was just so _smart_ and _endearing_ and preciousand George knew he’d happily _die,_ happily _kill_ for this child. He’d do _anything_ for this child and he’d do _anything_ for the fine young man he’d grown to be. He just wished Alexander would _let_ him love him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just A LOT of Washingdad being the BEST! Enjoy it while it lasts because I have a plan 😈


	4. Nightmares of the past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update! My sisters coming home again because England’s going into a complete lockdown again so I’m going to write up some chapters before she gets here so I won’t go weeks without an update again. Enjoy!

Washington spent the next few hours trying to get on with as much work as he could so it would be out of his way and he could focus on looking after the boy and start solving how he could get _his_ Alexander back. He’d asked a few of his men he knew to be fathers, to ask their families if they could perhaps send some clothes that the boy could use and he ordered for a doctor to come tomorrow and give his opinion on the situation and check the malnourished boy’s general health, but other then that he didn’t know what he was going to do. _What if I never get my Alexander back? I already love this child but that wouldn’t lessen the loss everyone would feel at the absence of the army’s cocky, exuberant, whirlwind of a man they all loved, even through all of his flaws._ And if he couldn’t be turned back he’d have have to figure out what he’s going to do with him; as an army camp is no place for a child. Nightmares of Alexander getting hurt or killed already plagued him constantly but now he was so young and innocent and completely defenceless against the cruelties of war and the British troops, he wasn’t going to take any chances with this sweet boy’s life.

It was around two in the morning when he finally decided to lie down though he doubted he was going to get much sleep since the cot was hard and he’d given the blanket that came with it to Alex so the cold nipped at his skin. _Doesn’t matter,_ he smiled as he looked over at Alex all snuggled up under both blankets, only his red curly locks left visible. _Good night my boy, god bless._

The sun had only just started to rise and despite him only getting a few hours sleep, years of military service made sure his mind naturally woke up at the crack of dawn. Just as he’d predicted, his back ached after sleeping on the hard surface but it wasn’t too bad. He felt eyes on him and it took him a moment to get his bearings in order and remember the current predicament he was in. He opened his eyes and sure enough he saw Alex, knees drawn to his chest as he stared at the General, but he immediately tore his gaze away when he saw Washington was awake.

“Well good morning there little one,” He said as he sat up and stretched out his soar limbs. “You okay? How long have you been awake for?”

“About twenty minutes, sir.” He muttered it so quietly George had to strain to hear him.

“Twenty minutes? Oh Alexander you should have woken me!”

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know if I was allowed out of bed…” _Woken him? Why on earth would I wake him up? I may as well sign a death certificate! Nobody wants to be woken by some ‘stupid, spiteful child who can’t even last on his own for five minutes without crawling to mommy’._ He remembered the day his father told him that clearly, that was the same day that ‘ _No Moving Out of Bed Until Father Says Otherwise’_ became a rule.

“Of course you can! And you can wake me up whenever you’re ready to get up, okay?” He had a feeling he was going to regret saying that given this still was ‘tend-to-be-awake-at-all-hours-of-the-day-until-I-drop’ Hamilton but he didn’t care as he’d be happy if the child was actually comfortable enough to take him up on that offer. And besides, he didn’t want the boy to have to sit there for so long unsure if he was allowed to move, while he slept.

“Okay.” He said even though he most _definitely_ WOULDN’T! _Was he trying to get me into trouble? Maybe he wants me to be naughty so he can punish me? That way he wouldn’t have to feel guilty about hurting me because I’d deserve it._ Well I won’t be making that mistake again- I could still remember the last time I’d deliberately woken father up from his sleep…

~~~~~

The rain was pouring outside as it often did this time of year and the humid air was almost suffocating. Moonlight crept in through the gaps of the wooden shutters and stray drops of water that managed to escape into the small house dripped into the various tin buckets positioned on the floors creating an unrhythmic beat.

Alexander was sweating.

He was tossing and turning on the thin mattress placed on the floor and it took a loud boom from outside to wake him from his terror filled sleep. _The monsters were coming._ His breath was heavy and panicked and he couldn’t think straight through his still sleep hazed mind. _Am I awake? Was that a dream?_ Another loud boom came from outside, this time accompanied by a clap of light. _No not a dream, the monsters are coming. The moon is really big today, Jamie said werewolves come out to eat when the moon is full so they can see you easier! Oh nononono they’re gonna eat me!_

“Jamie wake up! _Please_ wake up!” He sobbed as he shook his snoozing brother. Another boom. “Jamie please, _please._ Don’t let them get me, _please.”_ He was beyond desperate now and his pleas were near incoherent. _Why wasn’t he waking up? Oh no, has a vampire got to him?_ He couldn’t handle it. The rain drops suddenly sounded like paws and the air like hot breath burning his skin.

“Mmm Lex, wha’ you wan’?” James Junior slurred giving his little brother a light shove, but Alex didn’t hear that. All he processed was that something touched him, “They’re here!” He squealed before jumping to his feet and running out of the room and racing to his parents room. _Momma and Daddy will protect me, right?_

But in his fear and race to ‘safety’ he’d forgotten four very important things:

First off Ma was working night shifts this week so she wouldn’t be home until sunrise. Secondly father didn’t like it when I had nightmares or when I cried ‘it was a pathetic sign of childish weakness and I need to man up if I am to make it in this world’. Third, father had been drinking last night- a drunk or hungover father is not a happy father. And forth, under no circumstances am I to disturb father _especially_ from his sleep unless it is an emergency.

He wished he’d stopped to consider these things.

He slammed the door open and quickly clambered up onto the bed burying himself into his father’s side weeping. His violent shakes were what eventually woke his dad and the man was less then happy at the sight before him.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing boy!?” He yelled shifting up onto his elbows and grabbing the boy by the hair, pulling him away from his chest and moving him so they were face to face. “I-I,” he tried to talk he really did, dad hated it when he stuttered but he couldn’t get the words out between the wet sobs and the new wave of fear he felt when he saw the loathing rage on his dad’s face. “Pl-please don’t let them… don’t let them get me!” He gulped.

“What!?”

“The monsters! They’re- they’re gonna get me! They-” but he was cut off by a sharp slap to the cheek. _Is he serious? He came in here and woke me because of some stupid childish fantasy? Right now the only thing he needs to worry about killing him is me._ “So what!? You thought you’d come in here and wake me from my sleep like a spiteful little brat?”

“I’m sorry.” Perhaps he should’ve accepted his son’s apology, but his head was pounding from the high levels of alcohol he’d consumed yesterday and the fact that he just came in here and woke him up over nothing made him angry. _Was he trying to be a nuisance?_

“STOP crying, there’s nothing to be scared about you stupid boy.” But his crying didn’t stop and James had long since met his boiling point. “Right, get up!” He snapped dragging the child by the hair, off the bed and throwing him onto the floor, delivering a swift kick into the boy’s side.

 _"_ You are a pathetic coward, boy! And you need to be corrected. Take off your shirt!" James bellowed as he pulled the cowering boy into a kneeling position. He’s still drunk, which means the punishment will be bad. Alex slowly removed his shirt with trembling fingers then braced himself for the inevitable beating. But he started to panic when his dad grabbed one of his shirts and using that and Alex’s own one, he tied his son’s hands and ankles to the table. He absolutely hated being restrained because it meant he wouldn't be able to get away until his father was finished with him. Mamma wasn’t even here to try help him escape the oncoming wrath. He was completely at his father's mercy, and he knew his father wouldn’t be merciful.

 _"_ Please, Father. I'm sorry," He whimpered _._

 _"_ You certainly will be after I finish with you. Maybe this'll teach you to not be such a burden!" his father snarled. “Now you know I only do this because I love you son.” He whispered into the boy’s ear. He said those words before every punishment and Alex tried his best to believe them _._

 _Father does this because he loves you. He does this because he wants you to be a better person. Because he cares about you, because he loves you._ _He loves me, he loves me, he loves me he loves me he loves me._

Assured that the boy would be unable to escape, James grabbed his belt and lifted it high up. It whistled through the air and struck the quivering boy's back with a loud crack.

Alex flinched hard and clenched his teeth as the leather made contact with his skin- biting his lip and drawing blood in an attempt to make as little sound as possible. Dad hates it when I make noises during his corrections, it’s ungrateful to whine about receiving what he deserved. _He loves me he loves me he loves me._ But soon Alex was jerking against the restraints as he thrashed around, helpless, trying to escape the hits. After the fifth lash, he couldn't stay quiet anymore. It was too much, too much, too much. "Please, I'm sorry, Daddy! I promise I won't ever be a burden again!" he cried out.

"You will always be a burden, boy and I work hard to punish you for being such a waste of space, I try to teach you, but it never works.” He sighed then as if it was he who was currently in pain. “You need to be punished." He growled out, sounding much like the wolves Alex had earlier been running from. "And I've told you to remain silent and take your punishments like a man. I’m only giving you what you deserve, no more. You obviously need a stronger reminder. Maybe the cane will finally get into that thick head of yours."

Alexander slumped against the desk in brokenness as he heard his father stumble away to fetch the cane. His back was already throbbing, and his father could be most brutal with the cane. He silently prayed that he would be released from the desk after the punishment was over, but his father had left him restrained all night before to ‘keep him out of trouble’ and it usually resulted in another punishment the next day when his father’s hangover was in full swing and he conveniently spotted his son all tied up and in position to take the brunt of his frustration. His body shivered as he heard the unmistakable footsteps approaching. _Helovesmehelovesmehelovesme_.

He wasn’t left tied to the table all night but instead his father shoved him outside, leaving him out in the open for all the monsters of his imagination to come and get him _._ _He’s doing this to make you stronger. He loves me._

_~~~~~  
_

“What do you say we go and get some food, hmm?” George asked offering his hand to Alex to help him down from the bed as the small child was only a few inches taller then it. _Food! Again? But I’m not even particularly hungry yet? If I have it now will I not have it later? Doesn’t matter, I’d have to be a right idiot to refuse food when offered it, even I wasn’t that stupid._ “Yes please sir- if it’s not a bother of course.” He’d rambled the last bit as sort of a last moment thought, _he wouldn’t want to burden the nice man. Though he was sure it was already to late for that._

“None. Though I’m afraid you’ll have to stay in that shirt and wear the breeches you had on yesterday. Sorry son, I know it’s not the best…”

_Is he kidding? He was thankful he’d even afforded him some clothes!_

“I’ll uhh- I’ll face that way whilst you get ready and I need to get dressed myself, but tell me if you need help.” He smiled passing Alex the clothes he’d taken off him last night before walking to the other side of the tent.

They were now both dressed and made their way out into the camp, Washington ensuring he had a grip on the boy’s hand not wanting to loose him but also assuming the boy wouldn’t appreciate being picked up. He couldn’t help but smile at the feeling of the child’s tiny hand inside his own much larger one. _Alex didn’t like all these people staring at him. It made him feel unsafe, like he could be snatched at any moment. And he didn’t want to be taken from this man, at least he could feel relatively safe with George knowing he at least wouldn’t hurt him without a reason._ George was surprised when Alex suddenly stopped in front of him and lifted his arms up as a sign he wished to be carried “Please?” _._ Without a question George swept the boy up into his warm, safe arms and carried him the rest of the way to the canteen, uncaring if his troops saw their stoic faced general beaming like a little boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel really bad writing this 😭 please let me know if there are any errors and please leave a comment if you enjoyed 😊 have a nice week!


	5. Here comes the doctor

“Why don’t we just grab something then take it back to the tent?” George said when he saw the child’s unease at all the loud, rambunctious men yelling around them. The boy was sucking his thumb, _a habit father would often scold him for,_ and had buried his head into the crook of the General’s neck. The only answer George got was the slight squeeze of the boy’s hand on his shoulder and so Washington made his way to the line, grabbing an apple and a bowl of oatmeal for the child. _He really needed to get some meat on those bones._ He then carried the boy with one arm, placing him on his hip, as he carried the food with the other and they soon made it back to their current residents.

“Here you go.” He said after placing Alexander down at the desk and passing him the plate. His Aides weren’t here yet, as it was Sunday- they didn’t have the day off but it was slightly slower and most of them went to have a proper breakfast in the canteen today instead of a quick snack at their desks, so they all came in a bit later. He suspected they’d be in in around half an hour to forty minutes, plenty of time to get Alex fed and settled down with a drawing or something as they waited for the doctor to arrive.

_He couldn’t eat anymore._ He’d taken a few bites of the oatmeal and immediately his stomach started churning. _He’d already eaten a proper meal yesterday, why was he having all this now?_ He couldn’t stop though, George was watching him and it was clear he wanted him to eat all of it, he didn’t want to seem ungrateful because, really! He wasn’t! But it would be spiteful to refuse food when his brother is probably going hungry right now, _speaking of, where is Jamie? The man hadn’t answered him when he asked._ So he shovelled in another bite, and another, until most of the bowl was gone and he just _couldn’t_ do it anymore. He knew this feeling. This was how he felt when he got poorly last month. He was going to be sick. _Nonononono_ , _don’t be silly, can’t be sick it’ll make a mess and it’d be rude and there’d be no way George wouldn’t be mad at him then. _He clutched at his queasy stomach desperately, squeezing his eyes shut but failing to stop the tears from rolling down his cheek.

“Alex? Alexander are you okay?” He opened his mouth to answer but that was the wrong choice, _wrong choice wrong choice!_ As next thing he knew he fell of his chair and started heaving up everything he’d eaten since he got here. He was sobbing now, both from the natural child reflex’s of being sick and the fear as he looked at the mess he made. _You’ve done it now._ George had sunk to his knees the moment he realised what was happening and reached to hold the child through the waves of sickness and tears. He pulled his hand back though when the baby shrunk away from his touch and screamed, fresh sobs wracking through his small body now as he crawled back across the floor and squished himself into a ball in the corner of the room. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He was breaking down, his words near incomprehensible through his cries “I couldn’t- I- I couldn’t…Je ne pas.” he was hiccuping as he spoke, trying desperately to come up with something that won’t get him in more trouble. His face was bright red and he was an absolute mess of tears. _Doesn’t matter, he’s going to hurt you. He looks really strong, stronger then father and now he’s going to hurt you. I don’t want to be hurt anymore. Please, please. He didn’t seem to want to hurt me but now you’ve left him no choice and… and… it’s gonna hurt so bad._

Meanwhile George was at a complete loss of what to do. He instinctively tried to step closer to the poor boy, wanting _desperately_ to comfort him but he stopped mid step when the child let out another fearful shriek and slurs of ‘pleases’. Never had he felt like such a bad guy and he was currently leading a war, condemning thousands of young soldiers to their deaths. He instead went to the back of the room to grab a cloth and just outside the tent door to order a bucket of water to be sent to him, quickly. _Maybe if I gave him some space he’d calm a bit and then I can show him I’m not a threat._ He took a long breath to shove down his roaring anger towards James Hamilton and to calm his currently shattered heart before going back inside. The boy’s sobs had died down, though he was still shaking terribly and letting out little muffled whines into his arms, which were resting on top of his closely drawn knees.

“Alexander,” he called softly and this time didn’t let the flinch stop him. He gently sat on the floor, about a meter away from him, to appear less threatening. “Alexander, love, can you look at me please?” No answer “Alex, it’s okay I’m not mad.” This time he got a slight whimper of recognition and carefully inched closer “Son can you look at me _please_?”

_There was that word again, son. ‘I’m doing this because I love you son.’_

_No. There’s a difference, I am not this man’s son so he has no right to punish me. So maybe he wouldn’t hurt me? Maybe he’d just tell father and then father would teach me a lesson, as he should._

Still, he didn’t have the guts to ignore the man anymore so he unwillingly lifted his head, doing his best to not put his thumb in his mouth again and curl into a ball. “There’s a good lad,” _he was smiling at me?!_ Before anymore could be said a soldier knocked on the post outside, before coming in on admission, with the bucket of water George had requested. He tried to not let it show but George could see the curiosity and befuddlement on the young man’s face before he quickly departed.

Washington dipped the cloth into the water before slowly scooting towards the boy again. He was now at arms length and they sat in silence for a few moments. “I’m not going to hurt you dear heart. Remember? I will never, _ever_ hurt you.” Alexander shuffled a bit, his cries had mainly stopped. “Can I come closer?” _No._ But despite him not wanting him too he nodded his head in permission, a small part of him craving the comfort and protection this man seemed to offer. Washington moved all the way over to him then and Alex scrunched his eyes closed again waiting for the sharp sting of a slap to fall on his wet cheek but non came.

“Mind if I clean you up a bit kiddo?” He said this as he raised the wet flannel to the boy’s face, softly wiping away the tears and sick, the cool cloth felt good on Alex’s heated face and he slowly leaned into the touch, his racing heart and panicked thoughts slowing down. “Are you still feeling poorly?” George didn’t know what had brought the sickness on, perhaps all the emotions had just been too much for the little one to handle so he threw up? Whatever the case, George was glad the doctor was coming later today. He was even more glad at the shake of the boys head ‘no’ and put the cloth down. “Do you wanna go lie down for a bit kid?” He needed to clean up the sick before his Aids started coming in, and he didn’t want them overwhelming the small boy if he wasn’t feeling too well. “No.” _Right._ George didn’t want to pester him so he moved away to dip the cloth back in the bucket of water and went to go clean up the mess on the floor. “I’ll do it.” Alex made a move to help but froze when George made a motion with his hand signalling him to stay put. So he lay back against the tent and watched guiltily as George cleaned up his mess.

It was only a few short minutes after he’d finished when the first lot of his Aides came in. John walked into the tent- Lafayette behind him- and immediately scanned the room before his eyes landed on Alex. His face went into a kind smile and he crouched down, Laf following suit. “Hey there darlin’ remember me?” He received a small nod as Alex was far to distracted eyeing the new man who’d came in with John. “Bonjour petit, I’m Lafayette.” Laf extended his hand to shake the small boy’s before George or John could stop him, but to their surprise Alex didn’t flinch and without too much hesitation reached out and shook the frenchman’s hand. _Alex likes french, it calms him._ “Salut monsieur, enchanté.” Laf beamed at the reply, Alex had told him once he’d actually grown up speaking French as well as English when Laf stated that he seemed really comfortable with the language. “Vous aussi,” he replied.

George whispered something to John as the two conversed and Laurens went back over to the kid with worry etched in his eyes but the smile still firmly in place. “Would you like to come with me Alex? We could do a drawing together! I’m quite good at art.” In truth Washington had told John about the events of the last hour and that he didn’t want Alex to get scared when the room was full of men whom Alex would most likely see as a threat. “Where would we go?” Alex thought John and Laf seemed nice, John had brought him food yesterday and has a funny accent, and Lafayette spoke French! But he still didn’t know them as well as George, _what if they hurt him?_ He knew logically that if George was going to beat him he would’ve done it already, when he made a mess or when they were alone, but these two men he didn’t know at all and the thought of leaving the relative safety of the older man set his instincts on edge. “Just into the tent right there,” he said pointing to the General’s private tent. “You’ve been in there, haven’t yah.” Alex nodded his head, thumb back in mouth. _It was right next door. If something bad happened everyone here would hear it. And someone would come get him, not all people want to hurt him. If he’s just really reeeeally good they’ll have no reason too and right now they want him out of their way, so he’ll do what they want._ “Okay.” He said taking his thumb back out momentarily to hesitantly take John’s hand and be led into the neighbouring tent.

George felt a breath leave him as he took a moment to let everything sink in. Alex was _still_ a child, he’d been sick for reasons he doesn’t know, he still doesn’t trust him enough to believe he’s not going to hurt him. _And why would he when his own father did?_ Now that Alex wasn’t here he let the anger he’d been swallowing down come at him full force. _He wanted Hamilton dead. He didn’t care anymore he needed that man punished, he did not get to hurt his boy then leave without any repercussions. He and Martha had tried for years to have a child, but to no avail. And the fact that someone like Hamilton had been blessed with such a precious gift just to treat it like that, infuriated him to no end._

He’d find him one day, karma’s a bitch. And if he doesn’t? Well then he’d see him in hell.

An hour had passed and the men in the tent listened, amused, to the child’s squeals of laughter and John’s load dragon roars as the two played together. It was a welcome treat for the busy men (despite there being more paper work now that two of the Aides were occupied) to hear the sound of the joy and innocence of a child amongst such trying times. You could say what you want about Laurens, but he is great with kids. _Maybe that’s because he still acted like one but oh well._

Tilgham- being the closest to the flaps- went to see who was there when he heard the knock. “He has orders from His General Washington to see him in private.” A guard said in a gruff voice. Tilgham looked to see one of the Armies doctors standing behind him before stepping aside allowing him entry. Washington glanced up and upon seeing the doctor, rose to his feet who and in return gave a salut before waiting for the General to explain the matter at hand. “Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

“Of course, how may I help you sir?”

“Well… it’s difficult to explain…”

And so George began explaining the circumstances to the doctor -Ned Stevens- including the mysterious age regression, the prior vomiting, the… abuse and his boy’s unhealthy weight. He didn’t use his full name though, only Alex, to avoid news getting out that the General’s Right Hand was currently a child and gullible to attack, though he had a feeling it was it was already to late for that as he was sure the entire camp would likely know by now. “Wait a second, Alex… you don’t, by chance, mean Alexander _Hamilton_?”

_What’s it too you?_ George wanted to say but upon seeing the slightly familiar look cross the other man’s eyes he relaxed a bit, _did they know each other?_ “You know him?”

“Yeah I’ve known Alex forever, my father and his mother were close when we were growing up.”

 _Well that he hadn’t expecting, this was a good thing really, now he could get a little more insight on the boy._ “He doesn’t remember anything and as far as he knows, I’m just a friend watching him whilst his parents are away for a little while. So don’t say anything.” At Stevens’ nod of understanding George led him too the next room where they found Laurens on his hands and knees panting like a dog and Alex pointing at him laughing. _It was good to see him smile._ But as soon as the new man walked in, he stopped, clasping his hands in front of him, shoulders squared and head down. Laurens himself stood quickly with a shrill “Sir!” embarrassment clear on his face at being caught like that by his Commander.

“Alexander this is Dr Stevens, he’s going to give you a look over, remember?” Alex nodded nervously, eyes still trained on the floor beneath his feet. “It’s nice to meet you Alex.” Ned said as he looked in wonder at his currently shrunken friend. He obviously didn’t really remember Alex at this age as he’d only been a year older but that didn’t make it any less weird. “Can you sit on the bed for me and we’ll begin?”

**Not related by I found out there’s a drawing of eight year old Alexander and did everyone know about this or is it just me? Anyway just gonna slip this in there 😬**

**[Photo](https://www.google.co.uk/search?q=young+alexander+hamilton&client=safari&hl=en-gb&sxsrf=ALeKk03ye-D6dhbVre9O7CEaDQm27OhOkQ:1610143149649&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjamOPTqo3uAhVM1xoKHWbgANwQ_AUoAXoECCYQAw&biw=1261&bih=1445#imgrc=W8-lx7-w46CjGM) **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sisters coming tomorrow so I wanted to make sure I posted, also does anyone have any fanfiction recommendations? Because I’ve had enough of just waiting for updates I need something complete lol


	6. Do I know her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was watching Biden become president earlier and honestly the look of annoyance on my mom and sisters faces when I started singing every time there was a slight Hamilton reference was astounding. Lol. But honestly how could I not sing when they said ‘under our own vine and fig tree’ and ‘history has its eyes on us’ like COME ON

Doctor Stevens was good with Alex. During the doctors visit it was obvious that Stevens is, _or was (this whole ordeal is one big headache) _well acquainted with Alexander as he seemed to know just the right things to say and topics to distract the child from his gentle prodding during the examination.

George and Stevens stepped back outside to discuss the analysis away from the child’s ears. “So? Is he okay? Do you have any idea how this could’ve happened?” The doctor remained quiet for a moment, he seemed to be contemplating something as he stared at the tent they had just left. “Was… was that the- uhh, _condition_ you found him in sir?” George’s natural reaction was to yell ‘ _Of course it was! Do you think I’d do something like that to a child let alone my own son?!’_ but he could see that the doctor meant no harm and was probably shocked that something like that happened to his friend in their youth and he never knew about it. _Stevens would have known James Hamilton wouldn’t he? Perhaps he could help me find the bastard when this was all over._ “Yes.”

Stevens seemed to look guilty all of a sudden before he cleared his throat and returned to the professionalism of a doctor.

“Well… there’s bruising on his ribs and some cracks- nothing broken but I recommend him not stretching them as movement can send severe jolts of pain throughout the body. His left wrist is sprained and the lashes on his back don’t seem to be infected which is good news. They are starting to scab over and if I were to guess, they were inflicted perhaps two, three days ago…” the doctor paused a second, maybe he was struggling to process this just as Washington was. Stevens had seen many things as a doctor. Things that would haunt his mind for the rest of his life, he’d seen: limbs completely severed and mutilated, skin half burnt off, eye balls gauged out- but throughout it all he managed to keep his calm composure, but this… this was a child. And not only was it a child it was his friend, _Alexander_ , he was practically his brother and yet he had no idea of the cruelty Mr Hamilton has bestowed on him before he walked out of his life. _How could I not have seen it? Why didn’t Alex ever say anything? I could have helped, I could have been there; my father would have taken him in, would’ve helped Alex and James and even Rachel if need be._ He took a deep breath before continuing “Umm- well, he’s severely malnourished which… is probably what caused him to throw up. His body isn’t use to being so full so it was a natural coping mechanism. I would recommend the BRAT diet which consists of bananas, rice, applesauce and toast but I understand you can’t really afford to be picky about food so just make sure he eats smaller portions and avoid anything too heavy.”

“Okay I’ll see what I can do.” George listened intently to everything the doctor said, holding back a flinch when he came to the realisation that his baby had been so starved that his body simply couldn’t contain normal size portions for someone his age. He also felt like a monster when he imagined what Alexander would have been thinking when he shovelled the food down earlier despite obviously feeling sick. He could clearly see those scared eyes watching him as he got paler and paler with each spoonful going into his mouth. _He probably felt he had to finish it all. Did he think it would anger me if he didn’t? He was probably scared and feeling poorly while I just sat there completely oblivious like an idiot!_ “So do you have any ideas on how… this” he said gesturing to the room with his son “could have happened?”

“I’ve never seen anything like this before- you said he was shot by an arrow, yes?” George nodded “well perhaps the arrow was coated with something and it went into his blood stream, if that’s the case then it should only be a matter of time before he… re-ages? Just need to wait for whatever it was to leave his body which should take around a week. Or, _hell,_ this is completely out of medical knowledge, it could be on a time limit and maybe he’ll re-age on the next full moon! Who knows? Could be an act of god. The only thing we can do is hope and pray for the return of our Alexander and prepare for the worst.”

They went quiet for a couple of moments as George studied the other man, looking for _who knows what,_ before he broke the silence. _“_ Alex’s father…” he said not knowing how to finish the sentence or what he even wanted to ask. It seemed he didn’t need to as Ned knew what he wanted to know without it being said. “He left. When Alex was ten I believe- Alex wrote to him a lot after his mother passed but he never got a response… I never knew…” he didn’t need to extend on that last sentence as it was clear he was talking about the obvious abuse on the boy’s body. _If this was all ready happening to him when he was still practically a baby what could it have been like when he got older_? “Hamilton Sr was always hot headed with thin patience and had a tendency to be a bad drunk, but… I never knew he was _beating_ Alexander. I never would’ve thought Rachel, _his mother,_ would let something like that happen.” He had to stop again and close his eyes. _I should have known, I should have known._ “Rachel.” George echoed suddenly miles away. On a sunny beach many years ago.

~~~~~

“Geo-orge,” he heard someone sing in a voice as smooth as silk, he turned around to see her walking towards him over the white sands of Nevis. Tanned skin and dark hair shining in the bright sun. “Care for a swim?” she teased, mischief sparkling in her intense blue eyes, seemingly purple-- _wait._

~~~~~

“Wait where did you say you were from again?”

“Saint Croix.” _It can’t be her then. My Rachel lived on the island of Nevis._ But now that he recalled Rachel’s eyes he couldn’t help but see Alex’s reflected in them. Perhaps he was getting them muddled, it had been so many years since he’d seen Rachel… _They could have moved. That would explain why he never saw Rachel again when he use to dock on Nevis and St Kitts— Whatever, it wasn’t the same Rachel, there’s no way. But the eyes._

“Well thank you for your help doctor.” He said waving off the thoughts taking over his mind.

‘‘Was my honour sir.” He said “If you ever need anymore help with Alexander _please,_ don’t hesitate to send for me.” With a respectful bow of his head he took his leave, leaving Washington alone to his thoughts.

~~~~~

“Think it’s time for a nap huh, munchkin?” _Munchkin? That was new even to George. He had no idea where that came from._ Unlike yesterday the boy didn’t refuse his offer but instead slipped his tiny hand into George’s while rubbing his eyes. “Mmkay.” He hummed. It honestly shouldn’t have surprised Washington as being sick, crying, having a doctor’s visit and running around with John for hours must have been a lot for one so little and young. “Let’s lie you down then.”

He once again placed the boy on his own bed (despite already grimacing at the thought of sleeping on that hard cot again) and tucked him under the covers, not giving it a second thought when he swept the hair from his son’s forehead and gave him a quick kiss before leaving the tent. But Alexander did, because little did he know the General had kissed his head before when he slept. The pure affection in the gesture was completely new to Alex. He knew Maman loved him but she was always busy trying to provide for them at those strange men’s houses at night or at the shop, she rarely had time to spend on him or Jamie and when she did she always seemed to be in distress or sad. And father didn’t like Maman coddling us and would yell at her for being lazy whenever she would try take a break with them. He decided he liked the love and attention he was getting from this man. He liked having someone put him first and it just felt so… right? _It’s only been a day he doesn’t really like you. He’s just being nice. Father is the one who cares about you, stop being so ungrateful and needy. _That is what he kept repeating in his head until he eventually drifted off to sleep.

~~~~~

“Any news?” A middle aged man asked in a gruff voice.

“Yes. Something I think you’ll find quite… _interesting_ …” the younger man said to his superior, a cocky smile on his face.

“Well?” The older man snapped impatiently “spit it out then!”

“Oh your not going to believe me when I tell you sir, it’s… hard to explain.” He begun “it seems the British’s serum works! And you’ll never guess who the lab rat was.”

“I’m not in the mood for games,”

“Alright, alright Arnold no need to shout.” The spy teased “it was only our dear General Washington’s favourite little lap dog.”

“What.” Benedict Arnold said raising his eye brow in curiosity as a smirk took over his cold face.

“Hamilton,” he said leaning across the desk to face his Commander with an insolent bravity anyone slightly sane wouldn’t dream of showing to the cruel commander “Is a child.” He finished.

Arnold stared at the younger man for a moment before a wicked smirk spread across his face. “Well, well, that _is_ interesting.” This was going to be fun “Well done André, seems you’re not as useless as I thought. Now, go back to that shit-hole they call a camp and keep close eye on the young Lieutenant. I want frequent reports and to be informed at the _first sign_ of weakness. I have no doubt our dear Washington would be willing to bend over backwards for the man -or _child- ‘_ he considers a son’. He was always weak.”

“Are we to be expecting young company soon sir?” André grinned knowingly. “I’ve been _craving_ some play time.”

“Yes. Now get back to work and then,” he said standing up to shake the spy’s hand “ _then,_ we can have some fun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I took so long my sister never leaves me alone and we share a room so there’s literally no privacy 😭 I’m sure some of you can relate. Also with the whole munchkin nickname I was trying to think of a nickname they’d use in America (I’m from England) that wouldn’t be too generic or modern like champ or something. So I decided on munchkin cuz my dad calls me that and I’m pretty sure they use it in America but if you don’t like it and you have any suggestions drop it in the comments and I’ll think about changing it 👌🏻 k bye 👋🏻


	7. Right thing to do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought we could do with some fluff 😊 ok it’s not complete fluff but I tried my hardest to not be angsty for one minute okay 😭

After a thirty minute nap, Alex sat on the edge of George’s desk swinging his legs. Normally he’d find being in a room full of big, strong men scary but he was kind of enjoying having all these adults fawning over him. George fondly watched him giggle at Lafayette’s joke and was glad that Alex wasn’t intimidated having everyone’s eyes on him. It seemed he had always enjoyed being the centre of attention. It was rather amusing watching all of his Aides trying to win the young boy’s favouritism: pulling pranks on each other, goofing about, saying “Alex! Watch this!”, appointing themselves Alex’s ‘uncles’, all of them competing to see who could get the little boy to laugh the hardest. It seemed work was being put off for today and Washington couldn’t find it in himself to complain, not when they were putting such glee on Alex’s face.

“Hey Alex! Look at Uncle Tench!” Tilgham called as he proceeded to do a handstand and walk around the room. The look of astonishment on Alex’s face was almost comical “Wooooow,” the child exclaimed before jumping off the desk and bobbing on the balls of his feet “Can you teach me how? Pleeeeeease.” Everyone chuckled at his enthusiasm “Maybe in a few days Alexander, Mr Stevens said your wrist is hurt so you can’t put pressure on it, remember?” George said feeling instantly guilty as the boy’s face fell. “Oh, yeah,” he muttered forlornly, the memory of his father throwing him across the room by his wrist with a crushing grip, fresh on his mind.

“Why don’t we draw something ‘Lex? I’ve got some really cool art stuff we could use.” John suggested causing Laf to mock a pout and cough “suck up,” to which John rolled his eyes.

“Sir! I have a package for you.” Caleb Brewster called making his way to Washington and handing him a box. George opened it to find some children’s clothes, nightshirts, a few books and some small toys such as rubber balls, marbles and a small stuffed bear.

“Who-” George began to ask, amazed at the generosity from those back home, before Caleb cut him off with a warm smile “They said they don’t want to be named, that it was no bother and their children have long outgrown them.”

“Thank you,” George said to which Brewster saluted and left the tent.

“Alexander, I’ve got some stuff here for you.” He said, picking the boy up and placing him on his lap to show him the contents of the box.

Alex’s jaw dropped open as he reached in and took out the teddy, his eyes wide and sparkling. “For _me?”_ He asked, pointing to his chest as if to stress the question. George nodded “I-I can play with it and everything?”

“Yes it’s _yours,_ and you can do what _ever_ you want with it.”

Alex looked at the teddy for a minute before letting a massive smile take over his face and giving a squeal of joy. “Thank you thank you thank you. THANK YOU! I’m gonna take such good care of her and we’re gonna be best friends and- and- Thank you sooo much.” Washington didn’t anticipate it when the boy launched himself off his lap and over his arms and shoulders, he nearly fell off his chair from the impact much to the amusement of everyone in the room but he soon recovered and gently patted the top of the boy’s back avoiding any of the welts. “It’s quite alright son.” He chuckled, and Alex was too happy to flinch at the term of endearment. “What are you going to call it?”

Alex looked shy all of a sudden and had a faint blush on his cheeks when he pulled away from George, chewing his lip and fluttering his eyes lashes bashfully. “I’m gonna call her Georgia… after you.” Alex said quietly and looked down unsure. Everyone in the tent awed at the adorableness and Lafayette grasped at his chest and fell to his desk, feigning a heart attack at the ‘cuteness overload’. George had tears in his eyes at the pure, unadulterated love he felt for this little baby and gently lifted his chin and gave him a watery smile. _This boy will be the end of me._ “Would be my honour.” He choked sincerely. Alex broke back out into a smile then and Washington cleared his throat to push away the lump forming in it. _Dear god get a hold of yourself George. You can’t be seen so emotional. “_ Now why don’t we get you out of those dirty clothes and into something more fitting, hmm?” He asked standing up with Alex and the box in his arms.

_~~~~~_

_  
_The rest of the day went well and he’d managed to get some dinner down Alex without any accidents. George had excused everyone as he knew they wouldn’t be getting any more work done and they couldn’t stay late into the night like they usually did as he wanted to get the boy to bed within the next hour. He needed to come up with a plan for Alex during the day as even though he was incredibly important to him and he wanted to spend as much time with him at this age as he could, there was still a war going on that needed his attention. He couldn’t slack on work and let the fait of the country suffer because of his personal life.

Alex hadn’t let Georgia (or Gia as he’d taken to calling her) out of his grasp and he was now dressed in a light blue nightshirt. They were both sat on blankets on the floor playing marbles, though George was obviously letting him win. Yes, that’s definitely the reason why he was loosing to a four year old…

“I like you Mr George.” Alex said seemingly out of the blue with conviction and a note of seriousness as if this was an incredibly important fact. Though his expression suddenly softened as he looked down, slightly self conscious and fiddled with the hem of his nightshirt, preparing himself to ask the next question. “Do you- do you like me?” In truth Alex wasn’t sure what he would do if the answer was no. The only people who like him are Momma, Jamie and… father. _Father loves me._ But George had given him toys and spends time with him and Momma doesn’t even do that! She always says she wishes she could though…

“Of course I like you Alex,” George said, _if only you knew._ Even as an adult Alexander never saw how much he actually cared for him, he pushed George away if he showed even the slightest bit of concern when Alex did something reckless and shrugged him off each time he placed a fatherly hand on his shoulder. _‘Why do you care? You’re not my father’_ but George was not going to let this child go around feeling unloved like his older counterpart.

“Really!” The hope in Alexander’s eyes made his heart hurt. _Did he really find it that unbelievable that someone could like him?_ “Can we- can we be friends then?”

“Absolutely.”

“Yay!” He squealed “Do you think Mr Johnny will be my friend too? He’s fun to play with. _And_ Monsieur Laffy _and_ Mr Tench _and_ Benny! They’re really funny!”

“Whoa slow down kid, I’m sure they’re already your friends. They’ve practically adopted you!” He chuckled at the child’s enthusiasm. “But you’re my bestest and first friend Georgie! You and Gia!” Alex assured not wanting his new friend to be offended. _Georgie? If only his wife could see him now. He could practically hear her laughing ‘the Great George Washington, ladies and gentlemen.’ already._ “Glad to hear it,” he teased.

“I win!” Alex suddenly yelled when he struck the marble across the floor.

“Yaaaay, well done munchkin!” Washington clapped to which Alex clumsily stood up and bowed making George laugh. “Think it’s time for bed now.” He said, the same thing he said after the last game and the game before that but this time he really meant it. “But… one more game, _please.”_ Alex said, and wether or not he knew how hard it was to say no to him when he did those big puppy eyes, George didn’t know. But he’d already obliged to the child’s pleads too many times and he couldn’t let the child think he was a pushover and he could do whatever he wanted. “No Alex, we’ve played enough now and you should be asleep.”

“But I don’t WANNA!” George was shocked when Alex yelled and stomped his foot.

“Alexander,” he began but was cut off by the angry red head.

“No! I don’t wanna! You can’t make me!” Alex wouldn’t have dared talk this way to him if he was in the right frame of mind but he was scared of the monsters coming and George was supposed to be his friend, why was he telling him what to do?

“Alexander!” George snapped, voice slipping into that of a cold war general not to be taken likely. He took a deep breath to compose himself, if this were any other child he would’ve just picked them up, kicking and screaming, and put them to bed, but he didn’t want to scare him. He couldn’t threaten a spanking because he’d been hurt enough and George knew he wouldn’t be able to go through with it and he doubted Alex would sit quietly for a time out so that would just lead to him being in more trouble and Washington didn’t want that. It seemed non of that was necessary anyway as Alex went quiet and looked at the floor sniffling.

“It’s okay Alex-”

“I’m sorry,” Alex muttered before quickly running to the cot- the _cot_ not George’s bed- and diving onto it, facing the wall. George knew he was crying from the way he shook and the sound of small whimpers. He didn’t know what to say as he felt he’d just make it worse, so instead he just picked up the blankets from his bed and threw them over the shaking boy who was still clutching the teddy. “Good night Alexander.” He didn’t get a reply so George just left to do some of the work he ignored earlier.

Now that he was alone, his thoughts drifted back to the woman he’d been in love with all those years ago. It couldn’t be the same Rachel, there was no way. But Alex’s _eyes,_ they were so unmistakably hers. Wait a second- wasn’t Alex talking about a Jamie? James? Rachel had a son by the name of James. Just a baby last I saw him… there were too many similarities: the same eyes, brother called James, father with the name Hamilton- it _must_ be the same Rachel, _my_ Rachel. _But she’s not yours, she left you._

~~~~~

**Nevis- many years ago**

George walked down the now familiar path to the tavern where _she_ would just be finishing her shift, his red hair was pulled back into a low bun so it was out of his way in the sweltering heat. It was astounding to Washington that the locals found this weather nippy as it was still only spring and he doubted he’d be able to manage the weather in summer. He entered and saw her balancing a tray on her left hand and placing drinks down with the other. She hadn’t seen him yet and he took this moment to take in everything about her. The way she walked, how her hair hung in curls down her back, the bright smile she gave customers. _How could anyone not adore this woman?_ Rachel stopped in her path when a man sat at the bar grabbed her arm. Rachel’s usually confident, playful exterior seemed to drain out of her as the usually strong woman bowed her head in submission. George couldn’t make out what the man was saying to her but the way he was looking at her and the way she shrunk under his gaze made his protective instincts flare.

“Rachel!” He called making her and the man snap their heads towards him. He smiled at her but sent the man still squeezing her arm a cold look to which he thankfully had the good sense to release his bruising grip. “I’ll wait outside,” the man said in a thick… _Scottish?_ accent. Before stumbling to his feet, clearly intoxicated, and shoving past George to the exit. Washington would’ve told him to watch where he was going but he was more concerned about Rachel. “You okay? Who was that?”

“I’m fine, it was nothing.” she waved off placing a hand on his sturdy chest. She was quite a petit woman, slight frame, but she was for sure no damsel in distress. That was why Washington was concerned when she seemed almost scared and on edge around that other man as he had seen her shove away and belittle men much larger and stronger then the one just now. But he didn’t say anything as he knew she’d just tell him to stop being ridiculous.

“I was thinking we could go to the beach again today? I could buy us lunch and we could have a picnic! With your son, I’d love to see him again.” George suggested. Rachel smiled at how thoughtful he was with Jamie but it turned sad when she remembered what she was here to do. She pulled him aside so they had a sense of privacy then began.

“I’m sorry George I—” she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She didn’t want to do this. _God she didn’t want to._ _She wanted him more then anything._ But it was the right thing to do. “We can’t do this anymore.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Jamie’s father he’s… he’s back.”

“Was that the guy you were talking to just? That fool!?”

Rachel didn’t answer him with words but instead just nodded her head. “You’re leaving me, aren’t you.” He said it with such finality there was no way to talk around it. George was worried now and when he was panicked he went to his first defence mechanism which was to be hostile and cold. _Was she leaving him? For that guy? No._ Again Rachel nodded and George, though expecting the answer, felt his hopes get crushed. “No,” he said not being able to think of anything else because that was the only thing that made sense to him. _No. She couldn’t leave him, he finally found someone he loved enough to consider settling down and she was leaving him?_

“I’m sorry.” She said. And she seemed to mean it as she looked at him almost guiltily like she was hiding something. “I have to do what’s best for my son and that means being with his father.”

“What the same father who left for four months with no explanation, that father?” He scoffed. Rachel didn’t have an answer for that either, because it was true. But she knew from experience the court wouldn’t allow her custody of her child so if James decided he wanted to keep their son... She just couldn’t loose another child.

“I’m sorry George.” She said turning to leave before he stopped her with a yell.

“Wait! What the heck have I got to do to be with you?”

“There’s nothing you can do George.” She whispered. Before walking out of the tavern, never to see the first man to ever show her a relationship with respect and kindness again.

Rachel somehow managed to hold in her tears until she left and walked and got to the supply closet where she fell to her knees and sobbed. _She did the right thing. She couldn’t ruin George’s life because she knew he could go on to do so many great things. She couldn’t keep him here. Trapped. Because she knew he would stay. If he knew... If he knew she was pregnant with their child._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 😶😶😶 no comment...


	8. A letter

His wife was coming to camp. After much deliberation and another day of trying to juggle his important work and giving his still little boy the care he needs, he wrote to his wife who is due to arrive today. It had now been a week since Alex had changed and he’d started getting a lot more comfortable around everyone but he was still hesitant to ask for things he wanted. Though, after the tantrum Alex threw, he now listened to George’s instructions to go to bed without fuss. It made George feel guilty every time Alex walked stiffly to the bed like a soldier following command, yes he wanted Alex to listen to him but he was still a child so Washington had made it a habit to make sure he always tucked the boy in and, if Alex didn’t seem too tired, read him a story to let him know everything was okay and he wasn’t mad.

“Alex how do you feel about meeting someone very special to me today?” Washington asked unsure how to approach the subject. He didn’t know if Alex would be okay being with someone he didn’t know all day as Alex always clung to him when he could but if anyone could take care of the boy and make him feel safe and calm, it was his wife.

“Who is it?” Alex asked playing with his hands and then putting his thumb in his mouth, much to the exasperation of Washington who kneeled in front of him and gently removed the hand.

“My wife, Martha.” Alex went quiet. Whenever father had enough of ‘watching’ him and Jamie while Ma was at work he’d send us to his ‘special friend’ Ms Dalson’s, she’d always touch us in weird places but whenever she hit us it didn’t hurt as much as when father hit us so maybe he’d be okay with this Martha. _But if she did hurt me, Georgie wouldn’t stick up for me because she’s special to him._

“Is she nice?” He eventually muttered. George tilted his chin back up and smiled at him. He liked how George smiled at him. It made him feel happy. “Very, and I know she’s really looking forward to meeting you.”

“Okay,” he mumbled. George hadn’t lied to him before. And non of George’s friends have hurt him yet so Mrs Martha probably wouldn’t either. _Right?_

“Great! And if you like her maybe the two of you could be friends and play together today?” He suggested. Alex nodded. _I’ve annoyed him now he wants to get rid of me. Maybe she won’t actually be nice if this is a punishment?_ “My brave boy,” Washington assured petting his hair and Alex smiled because- _Georgie thinks I’m brave and he’s really smart so maybe I am!_

~~~~~

His wife was in camp. He took Alex off his waist when he saw the familiar carriage containing his wife roll down the cobbled path. His Aides all stood in line next to him looking eager for her arrival. Martha _adored_ all the men in his camp and whenever she visited, the boys all enjoyed getting mothered and doted on. Which is why when his wife stepped out of the carriage he wasn’t surprised when all his men started cheering. Luckily, yesterday they moved into a proper building a wealthy man lent them for the winter, so his dear wife wouldn’t have to sleep in a cold tent. Not that he would’ve been able to bring himself to care when he saw his wife step out of the carriage, looking as beautiful as ever, smiling at all of the men and walking over to greet each of them.

As Martha walked past each of his aides she straightened the men’s coats, tidied their hair and George snorted at Meade’s indignant shriek when Martha licked her finger and ran it over his eyebrows. And finally she got to him and George couldn’t stop himself from sweeping her into his arms and kissing her. Though he stopped to shoot a glare when everyone whistled at them.

“Now who is this little one?” She asked, slightly astounded that George _hadn’t_ been joking when he told her Hamilton had been turned into a child. Alex clung to George’s leg as Martha examined him in astonishment, causing the woman to chuckle at seeing her husband being used as a body shield. “It’s all right sweetheart no need to be shy, I’m Martha.” She smiled, offering him her hand which he cautiously shook while still clutching George’s trousers with his other hand. “Alex,” he mumbled before returning fully behind her husband’s legs. Martha looked like she had a lot of money and in Alex’s experience, people with money didn’t tend to be very nice.

“And whose that?” She asked gesturing to the teddy wrapped in the child’s arms. “This is Georgia!” He said, brightening up a bit now he was talking about something he liked. “Oh?” Martha exclaimed, raising an amused eyebrow in her husband’s direction. “Well it’s a pleasure to meet you Georgia.” She said shaking the teddy’s stuffed arm. It made Alex giggle and Martha felt her heart warm at the sound of the child’s laughter, it was a sound she missed from her own children. “She says it’s nice to meet you too.”

George walked with them to the tents, debating over whether he should go to work and leave Alex with Martha today or wait until tomorrow. Alex didn’t _seem_ scared. Cautious but not scared. He was already warming up to Martha far faster then he did with any of them. He wasn’t particularly shocked, his wife had that motherly affect on people. But he was worried that Alex wouldn’t be so calm once he left him alone with someone he didn’t know what to expect with.

They walked into the building and Martha set her bags down on George’s bed, before they went into the office together where Martha read a book to Alex as they all worked. He decided this was the best option as it would give Alex a chance to get more comfortable with her but both he and Alex’s ‘uncles’ were close enough for him to feel secure. It wasn’t really necessary as the boy seemed to be fully immersed in the story and didn’t really notice anything else.

“Hey Alex,” Laurens said as both he and Lafayette walked over to the corner where the boy and Lady Washington sat. “We’re finished for the day do you wanna go play catch for a bit?”

“Really?” Alex asked jumping from the woman’s lap in excitement. _I’ve never had a group of friends to play with before_! “Yeah, go get your coat on,” Laurens said before looking to Martha who seemed to have been enjoying her cuddle time and was now sending the two boys an annoyed look for disturbing it. “Of course, if it’s alright with you Ma’am.” Laurens added sheepishly to which the woman just raised an eyebrow at him clearly stating _As if I can say no now idiot._ Martha just nodded her consent and Alex didn’t hesitate before racing into his room and soon returning, coat and one of the balls that had been gifted him in hand.

Alex had surprisingly good aim for a four year old but he couldn’t throw too far so they decided on a game of piggy in the middle involving Lafayette jumping in the opposite direction the ball was thrown and putting on a show of crying over loosing on the floor. George came out about an hour later though, calling the boys in doors before Alex caught a chill. Martha took Alex to his room and wrapped him in blankets in front of the fire with a glass of milk, it wasn’t long until his drowsy eyes drifted shut.

~~~~~

“I’m so glad to be in your arms again my love.” Martha said as she and George lay in bed together.

“Mmm,” he hummed staring at the ceiling, eyebrows furrowed. Something was on his mind, Martha could tell. Normally when they’d been apart for a long time they’d spend the night in hushed whispers catching up and comforting each other but tonight he’d hardly said ten words. “What’s wrong.” She said sitting up, not bothering to beat around the bush. George’s eyebrows furrowed further in confusion before releasing a breathy chuckle when he remembered who exactly he was talking too. _It was stupid to try hide anything from his wife, she could always read me like an open book._

“There was this woman, her name was Rachel,” he began “this was before you!” He was quick to reassure “She was… she…” he didn’t know how to continue- _she was perfect?_ She seemed it at the time but it was such a long time ago and his wife was the only woman for him now. “She was different.” Martha just stayed quiet waiting for him to continue. “I was travelling through the Virgin Islands and I approached her asking if she knew of a place I could stay for the week… we started talking and there was just something about her, I was hooked. I ended up staying for longer then a week and it ended up getting… physical.” Martha shut her eyes. She had no right to be upset, she had been married before George but she thought that she was the only person he’d ever been with. She then started thinking the worst. _Why was he telling me all this now? Did she contact him? Does he still love her?_

“It was just a few times, she left me and I haven’t seen her since but… never mind it’s crazy.” George dismissed shaking his head. Alexander wasn’t his son. He was just being delusional and seeing what he _wanted_ to see. _But what if…_ “What? What is it?” Martha asked.

“Alexander’s mother’s name is Rachel and he was raised on one of the Virgin Islands… I know that’s not much but ever since I learnt this I keep seeing her in him. They have the same eyes and he has the same facial features as her and he has her spirit and… I truly think it’s the same Rachel.”

“That’ll be a big coincidence George but, why would that have you so tense?”

“You know I’ve always thought of all of my men as family… but with Alexander… there’s something _more,_ I feel a connection with him I’ve never felt before.”

“What are you saying?”

“I think Alexander is my son.” He confessed, unable to keep his suspicions to himself anymore. “I know, I know, that sounds crazy but the time line matches up! And it would explain why I feel this overwhelming need to _protect_ him. And we have the same hair colour! And sort of the same nose and I know that’s not much because he looks just like _her_ but…”

“Whoa George, _George_.” Martha cut off his rambling. “It doesn’t sound crazy to me it… but I thought you couldn’t _have_ children? We’ve tried many times and I’ve had four so we know it’s not _me.”_

“This was before I got that sickness the doctors believe caused my infertility. And there’s something else…”

“What?” Martha was a bit overwhelmed by all this information being thrown at her but she didn’t doubt him. She knew the connection one felt towards their children and if George truly felt that Alexander was his son, she’d believe him. “There was a letter… about twelve, thirteen years after I last saw her. It said something like she needs to see me, she wasn’t doing to well and there’s something she has to tell me but I… didn’t go.” He said and she could clearly hear the regret in his voice. “I-I was already married to you! And I hadn’t spoken to her in so long I didn’t know _what_ she could have wanted from me! So I didn’t go…” he defended to no one but his own deep seeded guilt.

“I instead wrote a letter to her inquiring as to why she needed to see me but the letter I got back wasn’t from her… it was from a boy, her _son,_ informing me she passed away and asking what it was his mother wanted with me. A boy with the initials A.H.” He said, he let out a choked sob and Martha immediately wrapped an arm around his broad shoulders. “I didn’t _respond,_ I didn’t- she wanted to tell me I had a _son_ , I _know_ it. She knew she was dying and because I didn’t go I left her sons all alone, I left _my_ son all alone. I should have _gone._ ”

“Shhh, shhh it’s okay, you couldn’t have known.” Martha whispered rubbing his back gently.

“I left my boy _parentless,_ I left him _alone_ and _defenceless._ He- he couldn’t have been older then _twelve_.”

“Shhh.” Martha repeated at a loss of what to say. They stayed that way for the next few hours until they fell asleep, neither of them having a _clue_ what was going on in the room next door…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn’t update all week, it was niggling at my brain but everything I wrote felt off and I was trying to keep on top of online school but I decided I should probably get this up Saturday then I can spend Sunday doing school work. Next chapter shouldn’t take to long because I already know what I want to do. Anyone happen to know how to work out the tangent of a triangle by any chance?


	9. Into the woods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a short chapter I usually aim for at least 2,000 words but just felt best to leave it there so 🤷🏻 I’ll edit it tomorrow so sorry if it’s a bit iffy and also sorry for what happens in this chapter.

Alex woke from his nightmare when he felt a warm liquid spread between his legs. He blinked sluggishly before realising what he’d done and toppling off the bed with a shriek. _Oh no oh no oh no, I didn’t mean to._ He let out a sob as he looked at the now wet bed before putting his hands over his mouth to block the noise. _This is why I didn’t want to go to sleep, I’ve been bad now. They couldn’t see this. They can’t come in here. I’m disgusting I’m a baby I…_

_I’ve got to get out of here._

He took a deep breath trying to stop his cries and be as quiet as possible before grabbing Gia off the dirty bed and slowly opening the door. It only made a slight creak but it sounded like thunder in the silence of the night. This sped him up a little and he was soon running on his tip toes down the corridors, tripping down the stairs but steadying himself just in time and finally rushing out the door into the cold night. He forgot to put on shoes so the rocks dug into his feet and his damp clothes stung his skin, and they only added to his shakes in the freezing temperature. It didn’t stop him from running further away from the building though. He _had_ to get as far away as possible. He snuck his way through the army camp, dodging all the soldiers and slipping through a gap in the wall surrounding the camp. Luckily the people on guard duty weren’t paying full attention and his small size and the darkness of the night helped him get away without anyone noticing. Or so he thought.

He snuck past the tree line and once he was out of sight of the camp, fell to the ground letting out a cry. He was tired, and cold, and his feet were hurt from the rocks, and it was dark, and he wanted to go back home. _I can’t though. Georgie may not have hurt me for being sick but everyone gets sick, only babies wet the bed. He’d be disgusted with me. How could I do this? But still… I don’t want to stay out here all night…_ Alex stood back up, preparing to go back to the house and maybe ask Laf or Johnny if he could stay with them tonight. _I can get changed into new clothes and they won’t know what I did._ But as he started his way back out of the imposing forest he heard a twig break behind him and froze. _Monster._ Not having the will power to make himself turn around and see what was there, he opened his mouth to scream before a hand wrapped around his mouth and another lifted him off the floor. _Someone was carrying him. Oh no what’s going on, whose there?_ He tried to thrash in the person’s arms but was being held to tight. He dropped Gia and more panic rose in him now he was completely alone.

“Shut it kid, I won’t hurt you so long as you behave.” Someone, _a man,_ whispered in his ear. He didn’t recognise the voice. _Who is it? What were they doing? Let go of me!_ It didn’t matter anyway as he was soon carried away, through the dark forest.

~~~~~

The suns light shone in his eyes waking him from his sleep. George sat up and stretched his arms with a yawn, as was routine, but slowed his movements when he saw his wife still slumbering next to him. It had been too long since he woke up to the sight of his love’s sleeping form, in all her morning glory and he wanted to savour the moment.

He leaned down to press a kiss to her soft lips causing her eyes to open a fraction and look and him. “Hmmm, George sweetheart? Leaving me already?”

“Sorry my love, duty calls.” Martha didn’t seem to be having it as she wrapped her arm around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss before George, very reluctantly, moved out of his wife’s warm embrace. “I’m just going to take Alexander down for some food then we’ll be right back up.” He smiled.

“Okay, I’ll get up in just a minute.” She said. Their plans for Alex to stay with her today just came back to her as did last night’s conversation. Alexander was George’s son. Which made him her family. “Okay.” George whispered before pulling on some clothes and going into the room next door to his. To his _son’s_ room.

“Alex,” he said, gently knocking on the door to alert him of his presence before entering. “Alex, time to ge-” the room was empty. Upon inspection he noticed a large wet patch on the bed and realisation of what must have happened dawned on him.

“Alex!” He called in the corridor, looking up and down hoping to catch a glimpse of his boy. “Alex, I’m not mad I swear!” Nothing. “Shit,” he muttered.

“Sir? What’s wrong?” George spun around to the person addressing him, with urgency.

“Harrison! I need you to spread the word to all the other officers in this building to keep an eye out for Alexander, he’s upset and I think he ran off.” He tried to keep the panic out of his voice. _He was the General, he didn’t get scared… not in front of anybody anyway. Besides he’s hardly looked anywhere yet._ “Yes sir.” Harrison saluted, before going to inform his fellow Aides that their nephew needed them.

“George?” Martha asked. She was leaning on the door frame with her arms crossed and a frown on her face. “Martha.” She didn’t need an explanation, that was all that was said before she began searching the building with him for her new son in law, both hoping they were just over reacting and he was with Laurens or something.

He wasn’t in the building. Or the garden, or the campsite, or the artillery shed. There was however a very familiar teddy just on the outskirts of the forest. The forest that separated both them and the red coats.

~~~~~

“Sir, I think you need to see this.” Meade said with a hint of foreboding and dread As he walked over to Washington with a letter in hand.

After they found the teddy on the floor, Lafayette and Martha had to stop both him and Laurens from charging into the woods and searching for the child themselves. It angered him to no end that he wasn’t allowed to go out there and search for his son. They didn’t know what time he left. His men all got up at the crack of dawn so he had to have left in the night otherwise there was no way he would’ve made it out without being seen. His son. Practically a baby and out alone in the dark and bitter cold. No clothes on but a damp night shirt, no shoes to protect his feet from the rocky, twig covered floor. _He’s been in the woods all night, he could’ve caught his death._

“What is it Meade.” He could care less what congress had to say right now. But once he started reading the missive his heart froze. _It wasn’t a missive at all. It’s a ransom note_. The British have Alexander. Not just that, his former friend, _Benedict_ _Arnold_ , had his _son_.

“Get a battalion prepared to go at a moments notice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry 😬


	10. So close

Alex woke up confused until he remembered the night in the forest. He remembered running away and falling over and then… a man came and picked him up. _What’s going on, where am I?_ It was dark and damp in here, sort of like home, but there wasn’t any furniture. The only light was coming from a crack under the door. He opened his mouth to call out for someone before noticing there was some weird fabric in it muffling out his words. Then he started to panic. He started moving about, soon realising there was rope tying his hands together. _I don’t like being restrained, no escape._ Alex’s tears started anew as he sat alone in the small room. _Where is everybody? Why am I here? I want Mama and Georgie. Father will come get me, he always does eventually. But I want to go now. I can’t go anywhere, what should I do? Georgie come get me please._

The door opened. _Hello? Georgie?_ It wasn’t Georgie. A tall man entered, eyes immediately settling on the quivering boy on the floor. “Well good evening sleepy head, you’ve slept the entire day away!” Alex tried to shuffle himself further into the corner but couldn’t get very far before the man grabbed his legs and pulled him forward causing Alex to fall on his back and let out a muffled whimper. “Now now, there’s no need to hide boy.” He said stroking the child’s face even after he flinched away. “So long as you behave, nobody needs to get hurt. So when I take that out your mouth I don’t want any screaming, are we clear?” Alexander was shaking and wasn’t completely focused on what was being said right now, his thoughts were racing a mile a minute but somehow he managed to nod his head and remain somewhat silent when it was pulled from his mouth.

“Good lad.” he said, pulling Alex into a sitting position by under his small arms. Alex sniffed. _What’s going on? Who is this? Why is he just staring at me smiling? Not a nice smile either- a weird, mean one like fathers._ He started sobbing loudly at how utterly confused and lost he was. “Why are you crying? No one’s done anything to you yet.” Arnold sneered.

“I-I wanna go home.” He choked out before breaking into sobs again.

“Awww,” the man teased, squeezing the boy’s cheeks with a mocking pout. “Well you best hope you’re worth something then, sugar. Otherwise you aren’t going anywhere.”

“But… please let me go. _Please._ I’ll be good. What do you want? Wh-what do you WANT!? I-”

Slap.

Alex’s head was forced to the side when Arnold violently backhanded him across the face, making the boy instinctively go quiet to avoid angering him further. “I told you to behave yourself,” Arnold stated as he retied the fabric around the child’s mouth. “I expected better manners then that, _Alexander.”_ He spat the name as if the taste of it on his tongue disgusted him “though, it’s what I should have expected from some _bastard, street rat.”_ Alexander recoiled away as if he had been struck again, he had heard those words sneered around him far too many times to not build a negative connotation with them, even if he didn’t really know what any of them meant. _How can a street and an animal be bad?_

Arnold said no more and just stormed out of the room, slamming the door on the weeping boy and plunging the cell back into darkness.

~~~~~

Washington sent people out to go and search for his boy, no sign. He shouldn’t really be using his soldiers this way, especially since Alex wasn’t _technically_ even a part of the army right now let alone one important enough to warrant this amount of troops being sent to look for him. But Washington couldn’t care less, his son had been taken and he did not have the time to explain to congress that Lt Colonel Hamilton had been magically turned into a child and taken by the turn coat Arnold as a ploy to get under Washington’s skin and get him to bend over backwards. _Well if Benedict thought taking Alexander would be a sure way to get to me, he was correct. But I’m sure he has no idea just how far I’d go to get that boy back._

He grabbed a quill and some paper and began a letter to the man he once considered a friend. The burn of his betrayal still stung Washington to this day, though it paled in comparison to the hurt and anger he felt from his son being taken. He knew Benedict was ruthless when he needed to be, he didn’t care about anyone but himself and George only prayed the man would find it in himself to not hurt Alexander, he wouldn’t gain anything by doing that as the child had no information to give them. He just hoped they wouldn’t hurt him only to cause George pain- _please don’t hurt my boy._

He had to keep the letter impersonal, he couldn’t let on just how much Alexander meant to him. He would sacrifice himself for his son without a question but he couldn’t paint an even bigger target on his Aides back then there already was. _Keep it impersonal and uncaring, as much as you want to you can’t beg. The only emotion you can allow to be shown is frustration._

* * *

Dear sir,

Upon receiving your letter I am faced with many questions as to why a man of such a high esteem, like yourself, would feel compelled to drag a child- whom currently holds no knowledge that would be of use to you- into such a gruesome position such as prisoner of war. I quite honestly just want to congratulate you; the bar of expectations I set for you couldn’t, in fact, go much lower, yet it seems you have taken it upon yourself to dig a hole and grovel below it. Well done.

Then again what else was one to expect from a man who sold out his own beliefs and country, in a quest for power? Never the less, I feel it my responsibility to warn you about the consequences your actions have brought upon you- as you’ve not only endangered an innocent civilian, you’ve also taken my Aide de camp. Now if this were under normal circumstances I’d arrange a prisoner exchange. Though I doubt that’s what your aim is as Hamilton currently holds no value to the war given the state he’s in. So name a time and place and we can meet face to face.

Yours truly,

G.Washington

* * *

It didn’t take long for George to get a letter back. They were to meet tomorrow, in one of the British’s camps. Washington was to bring no back up nor tell anyone where he was going. He knew that was a stupid idea but he couldn’t risk them killing Alexander. He was damn well bringing a weapon though.

The next day he snook out in the dark, much like his son did, and when leaving he waved off the guard’s inquiries and demanded they allow him exit. They wouldn’t dare deny their general’s orders. It didn’t take him too long, at the speed he was going, to arrive at the tall wall surrounding Benedict’s current camp. He slowed his horse down and sat up straighter under the hateful glares the red coats out front shot him.

“Excuse me young man,” George said to a boy no older then twenty “would you be so kind as to point me in the direction of General Arnold?” He swallowed, the name left a bad taste in his mouth. The boy just scoffed and with a scowl told him to ‘go fuck himself’ much to the amusement of the other red coats who all hooted and cackled as they let him pass into a courtyard- full of more men with detesting sneers. George continued riding down the brick path, unwilling to allow his unease at the raw hatred being thrown his way to show on his face. It was to be expected in enemy camp, but he must have gotten a bit too use to the admiration his soldiers and most of his country afforded him.

“George!” There it was. The voice he wished he’d never have to hear again. Washington pulled his horse to a stop then turned in the saddle to look at the British General walking towards him. “what a pleasure.”

“Where is he.” Washington didn’t care that _he_ was the one alone in enemy territories, nor did he care that he was currently surrounded by dozens of armed men who would all like nothing more then to see him dead. He was _not_ going to play Arnold’s sick game when his son was somewhere alone and scared. “Come.” Benedict said, gesturing to the building behind him. Washington begrudgingly hopped off his horse and handed it over to a stable hand, likely to never see it again.

He walked into the building after Benedict, waiting for some kind of ambush or trick. They walked up stairs and turned a couple of hallways. It was obvious to Washington that Benedict was just trying to throw him off track so he wouldn’t be able to run- but it didn’t matter. George was not leaving here without his son.

They entered a room and Arnold plonked himself down, with an air of arrogance, at the head of a table before gesturing to a seat further down. “Sit, take a load off old friend. I hope your journey here wasn’t _too_ strenuous.”

Washington took the seat but shot the cocky man a look that would have sent angels running. “I’ll ask you one last time: _Where. Is. He.”_

Benedict burst into laughter then and stood to pour both him and Washington a glass of whiskey. George just continued to glare when he slid the glass over to him but Arnold was unfazed. “Come now, for old times sake.” That was it. Washington grabbed the glass and hurled it across the room before slamming his hands back down on the table and screaming “Where is he!?” The red coat at least had the good sense to look slightly alarmed at the yell but it was quickly covered with a smug smirk. “Oh the boy? He’s fine if that’s what you’re wondering.” Somehow that didn’t calm George’s nerves. “What do you want?” He said this much quieter this time. Trying to collect himself and pull on the stoic mask he’d perfected throughout his years of service.

“You.” Arnold answered after taking another swig of the drink. Washington took a deep breath. He was expecting that answer but it non the less worried him. _What would happen to his men if he were taken?_ “You are going to tell me where all the communication tunnels are and the names of every single spy you sent into British camp.” Again George inhaled sharply. _That would lead to thousands of good men’s deaths. He couldn’t do that, he just couldn’t._

“Take me to him.” _Make sure Alex is in fact okay before coming up with a plan on how to get out of here._ “What?” The red coat scoffed.

“Take me to him.” George repeated in a more assured way. “I need to see that he’s actually alive first, and then we can talk.” Arnold stared at him for a moment. Perhaps looking for an indication in the man’s face for some kind of ruse. _I_ _wasn’t expecting that. I’d expected Washington to immediately turn me down and then I’d ask for something a little less rash and it would seem practically harmless in comparison. Perhaps Hamilton means more to my former friend then I originally thought?_

Arnold gulped down the rest of the whiskey, purposely taking long to answer to keep the man on edge. “Put your gun on the table and follow me.” George wasn’t even surprised that Arnold knew he carried a gun and so he did as told and followed him back into the corridor. There another red coat joined them to, what Washington assumed, make sure he didn’t try anything. _Thankfully they didn’t know about the knife in my boot._

They went down stairs until they were eventually underground in a long hallway, one side lined with strong, locked doors and the other with a few wall lanterns. It must be where the British kept most of their prisoners as the doors were bolted shut with a small flap at the bottom to slide food under. _His poor boy was being kept down here?_

“I need to see to young Alexander first, I’ll be back shortly.” Arnold said before walking a few paces and bolting open one of the doors. Smirking at whatever it was he saw in there as he entered. Washington was stopped from walking in after the man to the room containing his son when the red coat that joined them pressed a gun to his head. _But his boy’s right there._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I hope the letter Washington sent was okay? It’s actually really hard to try appear both formal and passive aggressive, I’m pretty sure it isn’t grammatically correct but it makes sense... right? 😂 k well Don’t worry Alex! Washingdad’s coming for you!


	11. Papa

Alex didn’t know how long he’d been sat in the room now. The bricks were cold against his back making him shake violently leading to his wrists getting rubbed and scratched by the rough rope. His mouth was dry and soar, stiff from not moving his jaw in so long. Needless to say, he was startled when he heard the door’s bolts unlock and he screwed his eyes at the sudden onslaught of light after being kept in near pitch black for the past few days. When he opened his eyes again and saw that man from before standing in the doorway- he couldn’t bring himself to be disappointed. He’d have been happy with _anyone_ walking in as long as it tour him away from the silence and loneliness.

“Hello Alexander.” The man said. The boy didn’t respond. Just remained in the same position he’d been in- knees drawn close to his chest- and stared at a spot on the floor. “You know it’s rude to not answer when you’re spoken to.” He snarled, annoyance and yet a sickening sort of satisfaction at the boys state, clear in his voice. _Nothing._ Not that he could have exactly answered with a gag in his mouth. Though Alex did react when he heard shuffling outside in the corridor, tilting his head to the side in question. Arnold just laughed and walked closer to the child, squatting down to whisper in his ear.

“I’ve got a surprise for you!” He sung in a teasing voice. Alex finally looked at him, wide eyed with fear and anticipation. “Oh don’t worry pet, I’m sure you’ll be most pleased to see who it is.” _Who?_ His panic increased when the man stood up again and walked back into the hall, still in sight of the door, Alex watched the man gesture to someone and he felt his heart rate pick up when he heard heavy footsteps walk closer and closer until-

_Georgie?_

~~~~~

Washington was on edge. He could hear Arnold snap something at his boy but there was no reply, not even crying. _Why wasn’t Alex saying anything? Is he okay?_ He barely took notice of the gun still pressed to his head as he strained to hear what it was Arnold was now whispering to his son, strained to hear _any_ noise in return from his baby. Nothing. His mind began planning ways to attack the gunman and get to his son, he was getting impatient the longer he stood so close yet so far away until finally Arnold came back and gestured for him to enter. He walked slowly, suddenly much more cautious of the gun not wanting to be killed in front of his son or to have it go off and hit Alex by accident.

When he saw that his baby boy was very much alive, his shoulders sagged with relief and all sense left his head as he ran towards him and fell to his knees, pulling the child into a bone crushing hug. “Are you okay my love? Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” He rambled, straight away checking the boy over and seeing the bloodied, tied wrists, the bruised, tear tracked cheek and the… the gag that had been preventing him from answering.

Washington was torn between his gut instincts telling him to comfort and hold his child, or his protective instincts telling him to hunt and kill the person responsible for his condition. His gut instincts won out and he reached to untie the boy’s hands- seeing just how raw they’d been rubbed, and then he slipped off the gag. Alex was quick to throw his arms over his dad’s shoulders and let out a cry into the man’s neck. “I missed you Papa.” Alex croaked, voice small from lack of use.

Washington froze. To him that was the most beautiful sentence he’d ever heard. Surely he heard that wrong? He couldn’t have… _Alex just- my son just- my baby- my sweet- Damn it George now is most definitely not_ _the_ _time to tear up._ “I-I missed you too son.” Alex didn’t say anything just snuggled his head further into George’s neck and let out a small cry.

“Aww well isn’t that sweet.” Arnold cooed and clapped his hands together, drawing the father and son’s attention back to him. Seeing that show of affection put a new plan in Arnold’s mind… there was no way he’d just let the boy go now. “Don’t worry! I won’t keep you two apart any longer, in fact you’ll be spending a _lot_ more time together. You’re welcome!” And just like that the door was slammed shut, the locks clicking to place.

George stormed over to the door and slammed into it with all his might. “Benedict you… you SHIT! We had a deal! Open this door _right NOW_ or I swear.” _How could I be this stupid? How could I run into a cell with my enemy stood outside of it? It’s already been well established that Arnold is no man of honour, he’d go back on his deals and trick and deceive without a second thought. I just saw Alex and I— how could I do this?_ “Arnold we had a deal! We had a DEAL! Open this door _now._ Arnold!” He continued slamming and kicking the door “At least let the boy go! You can have me just let him _go_! Arnold!?”

He stopped when Alex’s screams became loud enough to be heard over George’s yells and he drew himself away from the door, looking at his fists in guilt. “Alex I-” he went to go to his boy, his boy who he’d been making _such_ good progress with before this ordeal, but who now was screaming at him to get away from him. “ _Please_ , please don’t hurt me. I-I’m sorry I shouldn’t have- I shouldn’t- I shouldn’t have called you that- I shouldn’t have-” the speech was so broken up by tearful hiccups it was hard to understand. Though Washington heard him say he shouldn’t have called him Papa and he wanted nothing more then to show his boy how happy it actually made him.

“Alexander, I wasn’t angry at you. In fact I’d love nothing more then to be your... _Papa_. But I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled and hit the door like that I know it must’ve been scary.”

“It’s okay.” Alex whispered. The boy then stood up and ran to George on unsteady feet, Washington caught him just before he could trip and sank to his knees with him. “You’re freezing!” George noted, rubbing his warm hands up and down his son’s arms to try get some heat into him. He sat himself properly on the floor. “Come here.” He said, pulling the boy onto his lap and wrapping him under his cloak. They sat there huddled together, Alex’s fingers clutching his shirt and George rocking him softly pressing kisses to his head and whispering words of reassurance. He didn’t want to think of Alex down here alone. Unable to speak, unable to move, unable to see.

“It’ll be okay, I’ll get us out of here I promise.” Alex just clutched his shirt tighter, not wanting to let go and be taken away from him again. The fear was leaving him quickly now that George was here and he felt his eyes begin to droop closed, no longer cold and getting gently lulled to sleep. “I love you Papa.” He was too tired to question the choked tone George answered in “I love you too Alex, so _so_ much.” Alex gave him a tired smile and finally fell asleep.

~~~~~

George didn’t go to sleep and spent the next few hours rocking his son back and forth in a steady rhythm. Just listening to his quiet breathing thanking whatever or whoever was up there for keeping his son safe and, for the most part, unharmed. His absence would have been noticed back in camp by now, it was only a matter of time.

The metal hatch at the bottom of the door slid open and a tray with a glass of water and slice of bread that was no doubt stale was shoved under it before it was immediately slammed shut once again. He didn’t notice it before but there was a another tray with similar contents pushed against the other wall. Alex had obviously been unable to eat any of it given the gag and inability to use his hands.

Washington felt his anger rise again. _To shove food under a child’s nose like that and not let him actually have anything just— dear lord had he even had anything to drink since being here?_ That thought had Washington gently shaking his son awake and lifting the glass to the boy’s dry lips. “Hmm? What’s hapnin’?” He slurred and George sat him up straighter and pushed the hair out of his face. “You need to drink something.” Alex gratefully excepted the drink and George paused every few sips to let Alex catch his breath. Washington placed the cup down again and tore some of the bread, slowly feeding it Alex until the tray was empty. The boy didn’t seem to mind that the bread was stale and George swallowed the guilt when he realised he must be used to it.

Washington leaned over to grab the second tray but Alex stopped him from lifting the bread to his mouth and pushed it towards him. “You eat it.” Alex said, eye lashes fluttering at him. George felt his heart cramp with love once again and he smiled at his son, _his son._ “That’s okay angel, I ate not long ago, but thank you.” He knew he had no part in raising his sweet boy to be so kind and considerate, that was all on Rachel, but he still felt pride swell in his chest.

“But you don’t know if they’ll give us anymore,” he lisped, looking at his… _dad?_ with concern. His son should not, however, be so cynical and wise at such a young age. “It’ll be alright Alexander, _promise._ I want you to have it. You’re a growing boy after all.” He said, and Alex opened his mouth to let him pop it in.

“When I’m older I want to be big and strong like you.” He grinned and Washington smiled back. “I’m sure you will be love.” He went to give him the last piece but Alex grabbed it before he did and pressed it to George’s lips. “Please?” And how could George say no to that? Alex giggled when the man chewed it exaggeratingly loud and George pulled him back to his chest, tickling the babies sides slightly and wrapping him back under the cloak.

“Georgie?”

“Hmm?”

“When are we getting out of here?”

“Soon. I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sweet Jesus I actually posted a chapter when it isn’t the middle of the night 😳 today was my last day of school I’m on half term now so next update shouldn’t be long ❤️


	12. It’s true isn’t it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait for some reason I had a major writing block with the first part of the chapter.

Arnold sat with a group of his closest advisers discussing what the best way to go about getting information from Washington was. It was night and Andre had informed them that the absence of the Great General had caused an uproar paired with the disappearance of the young Lieutenant. It wasn’t hard for everyone to guess that the British had something to do with the boy’s disappearance as someone that young and fragile wouldn’t have lasted a night out in those woods, especially without leaving a trace. They would have found a body. And the people close to the child knew he wouldn’t have abandoned that stuffed bear, they knew the British had to have taken him so it wasn’t hard to figure out just where the general was, the man who seemed to care for the boy like a son. “No amount of torture would work on Washington, the man’s a rock.”

Rogers, the man who’d escorted Washington down to the cellars with Benedict, sent the British General a knowing look. Arnold stared into the fire seemingly contemplating something before speaking. “No.” He stated drawing everyone’s attention to him as he took another sip of his drink. “Everyone has a breaking point you just have to find the right places to hit.”

“Well what do you suggest sir?”

“The child. _Alexander Hamilton_. It appears Washington has a particular interest in the Lieutenant. I believe he’d be a good place to target, especially now he’s in a much more… delicate position, Washington’s bound to be down right protective.”

“Protective?”Rogers scoffed at the down play “the man basically claimed him as his son!”

“Well I mean from what I hear Hamilton is a creole bastard from one of those sugar planting islands. Perhaps the _benevolent_ Washington served as a bed warmer to some negro whore.” Thompson, an overweight man in his mid fifties, jeered having no idea just how true his accusations were.

“It would explain how such filthy scum managed to jump from nothing to a Generals right hand so suddenly. _Nepotism._ ” Another man sneered. Arnold just listened to the chatter with a sense of curiosity. When the two of them were just young men, telling stories around a camp fire of times outside of the army, George had once told him of a woman he was intimately engaged with before Martha. A woman he met on a voyage through the West Indies. _Interesting… definitely something to look into._

“Hamilton- he’s the one that serum thing worked on isn’t he? How much longer until that wears off?”

“It’s unsure. It rarely ever takes effect and Hamilton is only the third person it actually worked on,”

“Well how long did it last for the other two?”

“I don’t know… around two weeks? Depends how much went into the blood.”

“So we’re running out of time.” Benedict summarised. It would definitely be easier to use a young boy in need of protection against Washington then it would be a grown man. He’d never really hurt a child before and they’d have to hold back on some of the more severe torture methods they tended to use, lest they wished to cause the boy death, though if it got him information he certainly wouldn’t refrain from hurting the child just because of his age. “If you’ll excuse me gentlemen,” he said, standing abruptly and striding to the door “I have a plan to put into action.”

~~~~~

It had been over two days and the only other contact they’d had with outside was yesterday when they slid a glass of water under the door hatch, that’s why Washington was uncharacteristically caught off guard when the door opened and he instinctively pulled Alex behind him. The action seemed to amuse Arnold and Washington didn’t like the knowing glint in his eyes. “You might want to step away from the boy George.”

“And why is that? _Benedict.”_ He spat, standing up not wanting to be seen in such a weak stance in front of this man. _What is he planning? He’s planning something._ As he said that four guards appeared behind the red coat and walked towards him and his son, reaching to grab Alex.

“No!” George yelled, immediately going into fight mode, however futile it was in his weakened state, with a child clutching his leg, against five armed men. He shoved the one reaching for Alex away, upward punching his chin before kicking the second closest against a wall. Then the other two grabbed his arms, holding him back as the one he punched tore his boy away. “Noooo! Papa! Don’t let them take me again! Papa _please_!” Alex screamed, kicking and thrashing in the other man’s arms, trying to reach out his little arms to George who had now been forced to his knees to watch his boy be carried out to who knows what. Seeing George get punched just increased the boy’s wails and Washington cursed how utterly _helpless_ he is right now. _Damn it George, you’re meant to protect him._

“I told you to step away George, now you’ve scared him.” Arnold scolded as if he were a disappointed parent lecturing their child not to pick on their younger siblings. “Where are you taking him? Whatever you want just _leave him out of it._ ” Washington ground out between his now bloody teeth. Arnold leaned down to grab Washington’s chin and grinned menacingly at him. “Oh my dear George. What would be the fun in that?” He cackled at the fearful look Washington sent him and turned to march back out of the cellar. He wasn’t going to question him today just like he wasn’t going to go full swing into hurting the boy just yet, he’d let the fear build up in the man for a little while, let the threat loom over his head for the night then, tomorrow, he’d give him the option to answer his questions right away or have Alex pay for his mistake. But for now Arnold had some questions of his own for the boy.

“Arnold! You get the fuck back here now! Don’t fucking _touch_ him, you hear me? Arnold I swear when I get out of here you’re going to _beg_ for death. You mother fucking, piece of sh-” the door muffled out the rest of the threats, though you could still hear enraged yelling and slamming of fists and what sounded like glass being thrown from the bottom of the corridor.

~~~~~

Alex was sat on the floor of Arnold’s personal chambers, just as he ordered, when he came in. He didn’t acknowledge the sniffling boy and just busied himself around the room, smirking to himself as he felt the child’s eyes follow him. It had been five minutes and neither of them had said anything, he could see the child grow restless from the corner of his eye so he decided it was probably time to stop playing with him. He turned to the boy and he was glad to see him squirm and shrink under his scrutinising gaze. He just let out a hum of recognition and sat down in a chair in front of the fireplace. “So,” Arnold said, making Alex half jump out of skin at the sudden noise. “I just realised I haven’t properly introduced myself. _How rude_. I’m Arnold and you’re Alex. Now why don’t you tell me something about yourself, pet?”

_Nothing. The brat said nothing._ Arnold really wasn’t one for kids, nor was he one for being patient so this was already a recipe for disaster. “Look kid, I’m sure the whole wide eyed, scared little boy act works on other people, but not with me. Okay? When I ask you something- you answer. When I tell you to do something- you do it. No hesitation. Or there _will_ be consequences.” He snapped pinching the boy’s arm for effect, not knowing the boy didn’t need an example for what exactly a _consequence_ entailed. “Am I clear?” And he could’ve almost laughed at the quick and panicked head nod he received in response. “Good.”

Arnold wanted answers. It would seem almost to good to be true if Alex was in fact Washington’s son. There is no way to find out for sure but he could ask the child some questions to see if it was a possibility. “Where do you live Alex?”

“With Geor-”

“Before that.” He cut in “where were you before you came here?”

The boy looked deep in thought, probably searching through his small amount of memories for a name. “Charlestown!” He suddenly exclaimed, looking proud at knowing the name of his village “by the sea.”

 _Charlestown…_ A quick look at a map showed that to be in Nevis. _Oh this just keeps getting better and better._

“Do you know your mother’s name?”

“Umm, Mama?” Of course he doesn’t know her actual name, it amazed him just how stupid children could be.

“What year do you think it is?”

Alex hesitated “17–1761?” _Perfect. The boy looks around four which means he’d have been born about half a year after George’s trip through the West Indies._ It’s entirely plausible and possible. “Well done pet.” He smiled. “I think you deserve a treat for that, are you hungry?” At the hesitant nod he sent for food to be brought up to them, both sitting quietly as they waited, the man watching the boy fiddle and squirm in the uncomfortable silence. It was food that wasn’t stale bread or a moldy banana like they normally gave prisoners and when it got there the boy didn’t bother looking for permission to eat it and just dove straight in. _George is in charge of me. Not this man and Georgie would want me to eat._ Speaking of Papa.

“Can I bring some down? To Mr George?” Arnold just blinked at him incredulously.

“No.”

“But-” the man’s change of attitude was sudden and the slap he gave Alex was unanticipated.

“I told you to do as I say, boy.” He spat, giving him a kick in the side then stared down at the crying boy with a now emotionless face. “That’s enough for today.” He declared taking away the barely touched food and placing it out of his reach on the mantle. “I’m sorry.” The boy sobbed.

“It’s okay pet. Just don’t do it again, okay? You’ll do as I say from now on?”

“Uh huh.”

“Good boy.” He praised. “Now come with me.” He didn’t need to repeat himself as the boy immediately stumbled to his feet, wiping his eyes on the back of his hands and following after him.

They walked down a bunch of corridors, Alex practically running to keep up with the grown man’s paces. He nearly crashed into him when Arnold came to a sudden stop. “Scream.” Arnold demanded.

“Why-”

Slap.

Alex didn’t question it again and let out an ear piercing scream. He didn’t know that he was only a few feet away from his father and the reason he wanted him to scream was to worry the man.

~~~~~

George had been pacing the room for the last few hours his son had been gone. _Were they going to bring him back? Please bring him back to me. Why do they want Alex anyway? I’m the one that can give them information?_

These questions continued to circle his head. He’d been expecting someone to come in to try break him by now when he heard shuffling outside the door. Then a scream. Alex’s scream. “Alex!” He yelled. Slamming into the door to try get to him. _What’s going on what are they doing to him?_ “Alex?!” The door didn’t budge. Eventually the screaming stopped but the silence was all the more worrying.

It wasn’t until two hours later that the door finally opened. Arnold. Washington lunged at him grabbing his neck and slamming him against the wall “Where is he? What did you do to him?” he spat and the smirk Arnold gave him made his vision turn red. Arnold shoved him away and just laughed. “Relax. I didn’t do anything to him the boy’s fine.”

“But-”

“I was just playing with you George. Giving you a taste of what’ll happen tomorrow to poor little Alex if you decide to be foolish and not answer my questions.”

“I’ll tell you whatever you want, right now. Nobody needs to get hurt.” _Please don’t hurt my baby._

“Tell me, I’m curious, why is it you care so deeply about the boy? One could almost mistake you for his father.”

If Arnold hadn’t been looking for it, or if he didn’t know George as well as he did, he wouldn’t have noticed the slight tensing of the man’s shoulders or how his jaw clenched. But he did. _It’s true isn’t it? The boy’s his bastard!_

“Oh George you naughty boy, it’s true isn’t it? The boy’s yours and that Indie slut’s bastard!”

“You will refrain from talking about her like that when you know nothing about her!” George cursed.

“It’s true isn’t it!?”

“No.”

“Oh really? Then I suppose you wouldn’t mind if I went upstairs and ended the little rat’s wretched existence?”

“You dare-“

“Is he your son or not!?”

“Yes!” Washington exploded. It’s too late to go back now. “Yes he’s my son. He’s my son. Now please don’t hurt him. Please don’t. Please don’t hurt my boy.”

Arnold’s shocked expression was quick to morph into glee at the confession and the sight of his usually well put together nemesis’ break down. “Please. We were once friends, I’m asking you as a friend to not hurt him. Not as two opposing Generals but as your friend, don’t hurt my son. He has nothing to do with any of this.”

Benedict looked at him with an unidentifiable look before leaving without a word, hesitating, before closing the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thinking of a sequel set in act 2 when Washington’s the president and meets James Hamilton and gets his sweet sweet revenge. Yay or nae?


	13. Blast to the past

“Papa!” Alex cried, scrambling over to George after being thrown back into the room. George began to stroke his hair while glaring over the boy’s head at Arnold.

“He wouldn’t stop crying so I’ll let the brat stay with you tonight but remember what’s happening tomorrow George. The boy will be with us so if you don’t answer _any_ of my questions I can just click my fingers and have him killed. Think about it.”

It wasn’t until he left did Washington allow himself to properly look over his son. For some reason the red coat had slid open the food slot allowing more light to come in, it was as if he wanted George to see the mark on Alex’s cheek. He was taunting him. Alex’s lip was cut open slightly from where a ring must’ve hit it and Washington could clearly see Arnold’s fingers on his cheek. He must’ve been hit more then once. Washington’s heart rate picked up and his breaths grew heavier as he tried to get a hold of his anger, not wanting a repeat of last time were he scared his son.

“It’s okay, it’s okay now, I’ve got you.” He assured. When his boy’s tearful hiccups finally came to a cease he decided to ask him what happened. “What did he do with you dear heart? Did he say anything?” The boy just shook his head against his chest. _No? No what?_

“He asked me some stuff but I just sat in the cupboard in his room for most of the time.” He eventually whispered. _Swallow your anger George, just swallow your anger. Just focus on Alex._ He rubbed the boy’s back tenderly before pressing on “What kind of stuff?”

“Stuff about Mama and…” sniff “umm… about home.”

_So that’s how he figured it out._

“It’s okay now baby, I’m here. I’ve got you.”

“I love you.” Alex whispered, needing to hear those words from his father again after being deprived of them for so long. _I want Georgie. I wanna stay with Papa for forever._

“I love you more, love.”

“I love you most.” He giggled and beamed up at Washington who gazed down at him with adoration in his eyes. _Oh Alex when you smile I am undone._ His smile really lit up the room.

“Can you sing me a song? Please?” He asked, eye lashes fluttering up. George didn’t really sing but… how could he say no? “Of- of course. Umm.” _What to sing?_ There was that song he heard Martha sing to Jacky and Patsy shortly after they married. Back then he never really resonated with the lyrics but now he felt a greater level of understanding. So he began to gently whisper the song, rocking him against his chest.

“Like an image passing by, my love, my life  
In the mirror of your eyes, my love, my life  
I can see it all so clearly  
All I love so dearly  
Images passing by  
Like reflections of your mind, my love, my life  
Are the words I try to find, my love, my life  
But I know I don't possess you  
With all my heart, God bless you  
You are still my love and my life

Yes, I know I don't possess you  
With all my heart, God bless you  
You are still my love and my life  
You're my one and only”

Once Alex fell asleep he bundled him in his cloak and placed him on the floor with a kiss. He needed to get some of his built up anxiety out. He needed to _get_ out. _What should he do tomorrow?_ He knew what he _wanted_ to do, but it’s not what he _had_ to do. He can’t let them have his son. He _can’t._ But he also can’t give them information. Can’t put the thousands of men- who are separated from their own families, their _own_ children, to fight for freedom- at risk. But _… Alex._ It wasn’t fair to him, he was a child and he’d already been hurt so much. He had nothing to do with any of this.

They had to get out of here.

~~~~~

“We must charge the camp. We need to get Washington _back._ ” Knox yelled, slamming his fist down on the table. General Knox was watching over Washington’s camp while they made a plan. They weren’t able to keep the disappearance a secret from congress who were as usual, no help whatsoever.

“We don’t know where he is. We need to know for sure before we run head first into a slaughter. Send out a group of men to scan camps.” Greene said.

“But who will go?”

“I will sir.” Laurens stepped up, he _needed_ to see to Alex getting back safely. “if that’s alright with you?”

“Yes, yes but you’ll need some others-”

“Oh monsieur! There’s pas besoin de s'inquiéter! Lafayette is here! I have quelques hommes so I’ll come with dear Laurens and take a couple others. Facile!” [no need to worry!… some men… easy/ simple!]

The two Generals blinked, confused at the broken English but the overall message seemed to sink in.

“Good lads, bring no more then ten and don’t get seen.”

“Sir yes sir, we’ll leave as soon as possible.” John saluted and the two friends made their way out upon dismissal.

They brought with them four other men, the camp was already in disarray without more people leaving, and less people meant less chance of them getting seen. They left as soon as the sun began to rise.

~~~~~

Alexander’s mind was blank, and then, memories. Voices flooding his mind.

_“We’re getting a new start mon amour, we’re moving to St. Croix.”_

_“Your Father’s leaving and this time he won’t return.”_

_“Mama? Mama wake up? Mama?” “Your mother is dead, boy.”_

_“Suicide. The man was clearly deranged.”_

_“Street rat!” “Get back here you little shit!” “That boy just robbed me!” “I’m gonna kill you, you bastard!” “You shouldn’t have existed in the first place!”_

_“Jamie! Jamie please don’t leave me, you can’t leave me too!”_

_“I wish there was a war Neddy.”_

_“Get to high ground! It’s not just a storm!” “God have mercy!”_

_“Take this. Start your own destiny. You’re a smart boy Alex.” “Thank you, thank you so much.”_

_“The ship is on fire!” “Welcome to New York.”_

_“Thank you so much for giving me a place to stay Mr Mulligan.” “Are you Aaron Burr? Sir?”_

_“We are at war!” “Let’s steal their cannons!” “Here comes the General!” “I want you to be my Right hand man.”_

_“I’m John Laurens and this is—” “_ _Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette.”_

_“Attack!” “Retreat!”_

_“Son are you alright?” “Alex look out!”_

Then it was fuzzy. He opened his eyes but all he saw was darkness. _A cellar? Washington!_ He stood to his feet quickly then realised he… wasn’t wearing any clothes? He immediately grabbed the cloak he’d been wrapped in and covered himself with it. “Sir?” He breathed out. Cheeks red in embarrassment. _Why is he looking at me like that? Why does he look so shocked? What’s going on?! Where are my clothes?! WHERE AM I?!_

“Alexander?” Washington gasped. And then suddenly- Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Alex clasped his side. Blood. _Blood? Why am I bleeding?_ The arrow…And then just like that another onslaught of memories took him over.

_“Wh-what? What’s happening? Where am I?”_ His voice was smaller… higher.

 _“My name is George and I’m going to be taking care of you for a while.”_ Washington??

 _“I’m four and a half!”_ What!?

 _“I’ll be good, y-you c-can have the c-clothes back just_ _please.”_ How could I be so weak?

 _“You don’t deserve to be hurt and whoever hurt you or made you feel that you do deserve to be is_ _wrong._ _So_ _so_ _wrong. Understand?”_ He knows… he knows every secret. And it’s not true. It’s not true. It’s my fault I deserved it.

 _“How about I tell you a story?”_ _“Well good morning there little one,”_

 _“Are you still feeling poorly?”_ Oh god I was sick. I was sick and he cleaned it up.

 _“Alexander this is Dr Stevens, he’s going to give you a look over,”_ Neddy? Neddy knows?

 _“_ _I’m gonna call her Georgia… after you.”_ You’re gonna scare him off. Don’t get close. Don’t get close to people. They’ll only hurt you.

 _“Shut it kid, I won’t hurt you so long as you behave.”_ So that’s how I got here? You idiot, Hamilton.

 _“I missed you Papa.”_ Why did he come? Why did he put himself at risk? Don’t call him that, he’s not your father and he doesn’t like you, he just puts up with you, he doesn’t want to be your father. _“I-I missed you too son.”_ He- he’s just being nice. _“_ _I’d love nothing more then to be your..._ _Papa_ _.”_ I’m not your son, I’m not your son, I’m not your son. I don’t need anyone.

 _“_ _I love you Papa.” “I love you too Alex, so_ _so_ _much.”_ I don’t, I don’t and he doesn’t either. It’s not- it can’t be true. _“My love, my life”_

“Alexander?” Washington was leaning over him now, supporting his head. _When did I faint?_ “Alex are you alright?” _I can’t do this._ He went to shove the man away, not caring that it was his commanding General, but the pain in his side made him fall to the ground once more. Washington caught him again and Alex just wanted it to all stop because he didn’t know what to think. He was confused, a-and lost, a-and _yes_ maybe it would be nice to have someone like the General as a father but he couldn’t afford to think that way because it’s not true. Maybe he _did_ care about me when I was younger but that doesn’t mean he’d want _me._ And he isn’t my father, and he never will be and- I don’t need a father! Never have, never will. It’s safer on my own.

“Alex? Are you all right!?” _Oh no, oh no, oh no. The arrow, he’s still got the wound. His Alexander was back! But his baby was gone._ He could see the mask of professionalism take over his son’s face. Could see the embarrassment but… there was something else in his eyes that he now knew belonged to his baby boy, his son, his Alex. Was it- _love_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god, oh god, oh god. Super nervous about this chapter. I’ve been debating wether to age him up for the past four chapters and im not sure if I made the right choice but I needed him to be an adult to escape. Did it seem rushed? I’m not sure if I liked the way I wrote it. God it’s been two minutes and I miss baby Alex 😭 please let me know because I’m honestly debating if I should delete this chapter and rewrite it 🥵


	14. Never again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve posted the first chapter for that sequel I was thinking of doing, the one where Washington gets his revenge (that sounds like a Friends episode lol) so that’s there if u wanna mark it but I don’t think I’ll be updating it again until I finish this one.

Washington was leaning with his hands against the wall when it happened. He turned when he saw a light coming from behind him and heard a scream. Logically he knew what was happening, his baby was reliving all the horrors he’d gone through in his life, he was ageing up, he was becoming Alexander again. Though the screams still scared him. His skin was glowing. He ran over to his son, he needed to hold him and help him through it even if his presence wasn’t even noticed but once he got within touching distance he was thrown back by an invisible force. All he could do was watch. It was taking much longer this time round, last time there was no screaming, just one moment he was Hamilton and then in a blink of an eye he was little Alex. He watched as his baby tossed and turned, pain over his features and tears rolling down his flustered face. He couldn’t help him, he needed to hold his boy but he couldn’t.

He didn’t think it could get worse, but it did. His boy started sobbing stuff, pleases and apologies, begging the ghosts of his past not to leave him. Washington crumbled when he began crying for Rachel. The light got brighter for a moment, bright enough George couldn’t see anything, but then it faded into nothing and when he opened his eyes again he saw a much larger body lying under his cloak.

_“When I’m older I want to be big and strong like you.”_ _“I’m sure you will be love.”_

His Alexander was back, but his baby was gone. His baby who had no problem with being his son. But Alexander doesn’t want me, he doesn’t want me to be his father. He’s already grown up, already struggled his way through life. Well it doesn’t matter because I still love him, I’ll still be there for him and if Alex one day decides he wants me too then I’ll count myself the luckiest man alive. That time with him as a child was a gift, but it was never meant to be permanent. This is his son- his beautiful, smart, strong boy who could do anything he put his mind to.

So now here they were. Alex was wounded but he was back. He had his son back.

“I’m… fine? I think?” He answered unsure. _He was anything but fine._ He flinched again and Washington pulled the cloak down to just above his son’s hips. The wound, luckily, wasn’t too deep. It had cut his side but wouldn’t have damaged any organs. It needed to be covered but he likely wouldn’t bleed out from it. His son’s face had blushed even darker when he looked at him again so George pulled the cloak back up. No one said anything… _what should I say? How the hell do you talk after this?_ But Alex, never one comfortable with complete silence, spoke first, but not about the topic that was clearly plaguing his mind.

“So, umm, we’ve gotta get out of here huh?” He said and _wow Alex way to state the obvious._

“Yes,” George responded because _what else was there to say?_ “Indeed we do.” They’d never been this awkward around each other before. Usually when they weren’t talking about work there was a playful sort of banter between them, but now there was a mask of professionalism, a poor attempt at covering the conflicting emotions Alex, rightfully, felt. The fact that he wasn’t talking about it really spoke volumes as Alexander wasn’t one to avoid confrontation.

_Does he even remember everything that happened?_ But one look into his eyes said he did. Alexander was easy to read when you looked into his eyes and you learned the signs. When he was angry they grew darker, pupils dilated. When he was happy or confident in work, they held a certain glint to them, that unquenchable fire he had deep within his sole. And as Washington had recently learned, when he was scared his eyes were wide and alert, darting around the room and flickering at your every movement. Currently his son was a mixture of sad and scared. But there was something else there. His pupils were wide and sparkling, there was a positive emotion mixed in there, one seen whenever they got a win with their war efforts. _Hope._

“Do you have a plan sir?” _Sir. That’s all I am to you now?_ If Alex wanted to pretend these last two weeks hadn’t happened, he’d let him, _for now._ But they were most definitely going to talk about this when they got out. They needed to get out of here quickly, before Arnold came back, or _…_ they could use that to their advantage.

“Later on, Arnold, the man keeping us here,” he began, smirking at his son’s sneer at the mention of the man’s name. Alex had been particularly enraged by Arnold’s betrayal to his General. “Will come down expecting to see _you_ , just umm, a little younger?” Alex just looked away at that, running his hand through his hair. “He won’t be expecting two of us down here, ready to fight, so I suggest we use that surprise to our advantage.”

George hadn’t been able to fight properly last time, busy splitting his focus between the men and his son who was too young to fend for himself. But _now,_ he knew his son could hold his own. It would be hard but he’d give it his best shot to get them out. He just hoped Alex didn’t get hurt.

Now all there is left to do, is wait.

~~~~~

They waited for what they assumed was five hours, it was hard to tell how much time passed down here, until they heard the unmistakable footsteps coming towards them. George immediately helped Alex walk over to the corner of the room, out of sight from the door, and then he stood in the centre, silently praying that they manage to pull this off.

Arnold came into the room with a cocky grin, before noticing George’s stance and the lack of a small boy hiding behind his legs. “Where’s pet?” He sneered.

“I’m not your pet.” And just like that Alex stepped out of the darkness and smashed one of the glasses over the man’s head. George was quick to grab one of the soldiers around the neck until he fell unconscious, and pulled the man’s gun from the holster, pointing it at the other guard, who was just about to aim a gun at his son. His attention was diverted when the third red coat Arnold had brought with him threw Alex to the floor. George was quick to shoot the man he held at gun point and stormed over to the man now on top of his son. He had his hand digging into the wound on his boy’s side, other hand wrapped around his throat. _No. No one hurts my son, ever, again._ George grabbed the man by the hair and threw him against the wall.

He was overcome with fury: fury for the man who’d ‘raised’ his son for the first ten years of his life, fury for Arnold- for taking his boy away from him and bargaining with his life, fury at Rachel- for not telling him about his child when she fell pregnant, for not getting him away from that Hamilton, for not staying with me, and finally fury at himself for not being there to protect his son, for not going when he received that letter all those years ago, for leaving his son completely alone. The soldier in front of him was the last nail in the coffin and was unfortunate enough to be the one to take the full force of George’s anger. He let out all of his frustrations on the man in front of him, the man who’d long since been knocked unconscious by George’s fists, but continued getting punched. The man must’ve been on the verge of death by the time Alex managed to pull him away.

“Sir! Stop it! We don’t have the time! _Sir!_ Pa!” Hearing that word had him crashing back down to reality. Had him looking at his son who’d dressed himself in one of the red coats uniform. Seeing how big it was on him made him have a flashback to him when he was four, dressed in a blue uniform far too big on him. _Did he just call me… Pa?_ He could tell Alex didn’t mean to as he looked away, fidgeting with his hands and cheeks impossibly red. George wanted to ask him about it but his son was right, they didn’t have time.

He stood straight, marching to the door but pausing in front of his son, still looking ahead and not at the clearly embarrassed, yet conflicted, boy. “Is your wound alright?” He asked, eyes not travelling from the door. Alex clearly hadn’t been expecting that question as he stuttered his response “Umm, yeah?” If George had been looking at his son he would’ve seen the lie clearly on his face. “Good, let’s get out of here then.”

They both collected a gun and locked the cell door behind them. Alex, as he was dressed as a red coat, walked into the storage room, hitting the man in there with the back of his gun to avoid the noise of another gun shot. He took some rope and a bag to put over George’s head and went back out to tie his hands. He didn’t tie it tight and Washington could easily get his hands free to fight if there was trouble. And so they continued up the stairs, Alex pretending to be a guard escorting a prisoner outside to be hanged. George had his face covered so no one would notice him, but they both prayed nobody recognised Alex and called him out.

It took a while to find their way, Alex got stopped a few times but his boy handled it like a pro and answered all their questions with ease. One man recognised the prisoners however and George was quick free his hands and knock the man out before he could raise an alarm on his son. They made it to a double door and when they opened it they were welcomed by the sweet sensation of the winter sun on their skin. They’d made it out and both breathed in the fresh air with joy. The happiness was short lived however, when Alex noticed just how many red coats were outside. _This should be fun._

They walked quickly, Alex’s head bowed, until he caught sight of a familiar face. The man who took him, John Anderson, who he now knew to be a spy for the British. _What was it they’d called him? John André?_ Alex felt a surge of irritation, he’d worked with that man, he’d trusted him. But now wasn’t the time to confront him. He’d tell Washington to have him hung when they got back but for now he just had to hope Anderson- _or André-_ didn’t see him because he’d recognise them immediately.

They were nearing him now, but they were also so close to the stables and Alex recognised George’s horse, Tobias, standing in one of the pens. They were so close. So, so, close Alex was tempted to run. But then, “Hey, you! Stop!” André had spotted them. “They’re prisoners! Stop them!”

The men in the area raised their guns. They were hopelessly outnumbered. Before Alex could think what to do George had thrown them both to the floor, using himself as a body shield for Alex. _What was he doing? He’s going to get himself killed! He’s the General, his life is more important than mine. It’s my duty to step in front of a bullet for him. _Gun shots went off though oddly most of them not in their direction. They were shooting towards the hill and… someone was shooting back? Alex pulled himself up, both of them crawling behind a wall for cover as they both raised their guns to join the fight. He looked at the hill and saw a group of figures between the trees. Figures dressed in blue. _Laurens._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m starting school again tomorrow which I wouldn’t mind as much if I was actually going into school because doing it online gets so repetitive. It’s like reliving the same week over and over again. 😭 I’m sure most of you understand ❤️


	15. Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone mentioned Hercules last chapter and I wasn’t gonna add him cuz he’d be spying on the British at this point but then I felt bad cuz Hercules always seems to get overlooked for some reason so I added him this chapter cuz he is way to underrated 😊

“Sir look! It must be a rescue party for us!” Alex pointed in glee when he identified the figures of two of his friends. Washington only spared a quick glance at the hill before returning to the ongoing battle they were now in the middle of. A bullet barely missed Alex’s head and Washington was reminded of why he didn’t want his son on the front line. The boy however, seemed to be making the most of the thrill fighting gave you and it irritated Washington to no end how careless he was with his own life. _Son you have people who care about you now and so much to live for._

They were too focused on the task at hand they didn’t notice the men approaching from behind until it was too late and they were suddenly dragged back out of view. George recognised one of them as Admiral Howes, the man who sent all those troops into New York harbour. The Admiral aimed a gun at him as the other red coats left, but he knew he wouldn’t shoot. _After all what good am I to them dead?_

Then he pointed it at Alex and he had to force himself not to intervene. He didn’t think he showed a reaction but there was still a knowing smile on the man’s face. _Don’t say Arnold told people. I should’ve killed the bastard regardless of the sound the gun shot would’ve made._

“Well if it isn’t Washington Junior! Nice to see you and _Daddy_ spending some quality time together.” He teased, playing around with his gun and pressing it against Alex’s chest. _If that gun is faulty it could accidentally go off at any moment._ Alexander looked frustrated for a moment at being referred to as ‘Washington Junior’ and George would be lying if that didn’t send a slight pang through his heart. “What are you talking about I-”

“Ignore him Hamilton.” He said before he said something that would get them into trouble. He then shot the man a dark look but it went unnoticed as he was too focused on his son.

“Oh?” Howes laughed “you mean he doesn’t know?” And what Washington would _give_ to punch that smirk off his face.

“Know what?!” Alex asked when he saw the look Washington and Howes shared, as if they knew something he didn’t- and he didn’t like it. He was getting a headache and he couldn’t tell if that was from the blood loss, or a side effect from that age regression thing, but it hurt like hell.

Howes just inched closer to him, hand slipping under his shirt and running along his chest with the gun. “You know, it’s not nice to steal clothes, maybe I should take them back.” And then he ripped open Alex’s shirt, exposing his chest for everyone to see. Howes beamed with delight when he saw the wound that hadn’t looked that bad last time Washington checked. It looked like it had been cut open and it was now a lot bigger then it was before, with a steady stream of blood trickling down. _How hadn’t I noticed?_ There was also a weird scar on the back of his shoulder. He hadn’t seen it before but now he saw it he couldn’t take his eyes off it. It was faint as if it had been done many years ago, it looked like a burn, it looked liked he’d been branded- _no. No. That’s- that can’t be right. “_ Well would you look at that! Seems keeping secrets runs in the family!”

The way he ran his hands down Alex’s chest was more of a caress then anything and Washington was suddenly imagining cutting those hands clean off. Howes still got impossibly closer to his son and grabbed some of his hair, tilting his head back until Alex’s face was right next to the man’s crotch. Alex just rolled his eyes and continued staring at him with anger and confusion, unnerved by the man’s unwanted touches but not willing to show it. “Why don’t you just get to the point instead of acting like a complete and utter twat?”

Howes stared at him for a moment before tightening the grip in his hair and leaning down to whisper in Alexander’s ear. “Your dear General’s been keeping something from you. You’ve been _lied_ too.”

“What?”

“Why don’t you ask him.”

Alex shifted his eyes towards George with a raised eyebrow. He wasn’t expecting anything to be seriously wrong until he saw the look on the General’s face. He stared at Alex with nervousness and seemed to be debating what to do. George hadn’t planned for the conversation to go this way. He didn’t even know if he was _going_ to tell Alex about his involvement in his conception. But if he was going to this most definitely wasn’t the way he planned it. _Would_ _Alex even believe me? And even if he did he’d likely hate me for leaving him, for lying to him._

“Sir?” Alex prodded, letting out a nervous chuckle.

“Why won’t you tell him Washington? Don’t you think he deserves to know the truth?”

“What truth? What’s going on?”

“Well if you won’t tell him, I will. He’s your-”

“I’m your father.” George cut in, eyes glued to his son waiting for a reaction. Alex snorted thinking it was some joke at first but then he saw the seriousness in his eyes.

“Your _real_ father,” he stressed, knowing the question his son was about to ask before he even spoke it. “I was… I was acquainted with your mother- Rachel Faucette?- some years ago and I’m… I’m your _father_.”

Alex just stared at him. His mouth opening and closing every so often but unable to form any words. _I’ve actually stunned Alexander Hamilton into silence._ “I didn’t know, I promise I didn’t. If I did I never would’ve left you there, I would’ve taken care of you and your mother and I’m so sorry. I only found out recently.”

The harsh silence was broken when Howes began to laugh.“Your mother was just a worthless hole for him to fuck.”

“She wasn’t, she-”

“It’s been an honour, gentlemen, but _now_ , I think it’s time I take what’s mine.” Howes said before he grabbed Alex by the hips and pulled him up. Washington didn’t even want to _think_ about what that man was planning to do with his boy, if he hadn’t been stopped by a bullet ripping through his back.

“Somebody call for a hero?” Standing there was a red coat whom Washington faintly recognised but couldn’t put his finger on how.

“Herc!” His son called, running over to the man before his legs collapsed and he clutched at his side in pain. The man helped him stand back up again and it didn’t pass Washington’s notice that Alex was using this man as a physical barrier between them.

“Hercules Mulligan sir, at your service.” And now he remembered the man- Mulligan, one of the spies Alexander had recommended he send into British territories.

“Now,” the tailor said with a clap of his hands “let’s get the two of you out of here.” Alex let the man support his weight as they walked and George just watched his son pretend he wasn’t even there.

They hadn’t noticed the decline in the sound of guns, so when they went back out to what was not long ago practically a battle zone, they were shocked to see most of the red coats dead, a few others lying around injured and some having surrendered themselves over. They hadn’t had cover like the group of his men so they were open targets. Mulligan led them through more secluded areas until they got to the back of the barn. He went in there first to make sure it was empty and left them alone. Alex still refusing to look at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were in pain?” George asked before calling them in. He couldn’t hear what he said because he mumbled it under his breath but it sounded something like ‘you can talk’ ‘don’t have to tell you anything’.

Hercules called them in and George went straight to his horse but Alex just stood there looking at the floor.

“You should walk up the hill and they’ll be waiting for you at the top.”

“You’re not coming with us?” Alex asked concerned. _He hates you George, he can’t even stand to be on his own with you for two minutes._

“I’m doing good here Lexi, but take care of yourself yeah? I’ll see you on the other side of the war.”

“I’ll see you on the other side of the war.” He said forlornly, before the older man pulled him into a brief hug.

“Say hi to those two knuckleheads for me yeah?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled, then pulled himself out of the man’s embrace and turned back to George, not looking at him still but instead just walking past.

They began their dissent up the steep hill and Alex still didn’t say a word. Soon enough Washington couldn’t take it anymore. Alex wasn’t one to do silent treatment, he yelled, he screamed, he cursed, but he didn’t just ignore people. That was why it unnerved him so much. “Hamilton,” _no answer_ “Alexander please talk to me.” _Nothing._ “Alex-”

“Don’t call me that, you have no right.”

“I’m sorry.” _No answer._ He just walked quicker up the hill despite the uneven sway he had in his steps from the blood loss. The wound worried Washington, his boy had been getting paler and paler over the past few hours and with that man back in the cell messing with it, it could easily get infected. He already knew he wouldn’t allow him to help him get up the steep hill from when he shrugged off his hand earlier. “At least get on the horse, you look ready to pass out.” He requested and he should’ve known it would be a bad idea to ‘belittle’ Alexander as he snapped around in anger. “I’m not weak! You don’t know _half_ of the shit I’ve been through, every night, on my own, _praying_ I had someone to come and rescue me. But no one came. I made it on my own and I didn’t need anyone then so I _sure as hell_ don’t need anyone now! If you wanted to play ‘father’ you’re too late. You’re a _lier_ anyway.”

Each word felt like a stab to the gut. He felt tears prick at his eyes as he stared at his son, his poor boy and saw the look of deep seeded hurt and betrayal on his face. “I’m- I’m so sorry Alex.” He whispered, and his son just wiped his eyes and turned back to walk up the hill. _So sorry._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This hurt my sole...


	16. Back home

“Alexander! Oh my haven’t you grown!” John called as soon as he saw the two figures make their way to the top of the hill. The tone he said it in was similar to what one would use when talking to a small child about ‘how big they’d gotten!’ and Alexander tried to send him a glare but anyone could see the relieved and slightly amused (if not embarrassed) smile he sent him before throwing himself into Laurens’ embrace, he was quick to wrap his arms around the shorter man who was finally at home once again in his arms. Sadly, they both knew they couldn’t stay like that for long, not with all these people, so Alex reluctantly pulled away just to be snatched into Lafayette’s hold.

“Still mon petit lion!” He declared before placing two kisses on both sides of Alex’s cheeks. And _honestly,_ John found it unfair how their friend could get away with kissing whom ever he wanted to, just on the account that he was French. “Laf I’m literally older then you.” He replied with a playful roll of his eyes. “Nuh uh, it’s Uncle Laffy to you.” He joked, squeezing Alex’s already blushing cheeks and _oh god, I’m never going to live this down, am I?_

“Hamilton are you alright?” Burr asked when he saw the unnatural paleness to the man’s skin. The statement seemed to draw everyone’s attention and before Alex could stutter out a denial he was sitting down on the horse wagon with a container of water pressed to his lips and a hand to his forehead. “You’re burning up!” Laurens admonished and Alex just went to swat the hand away before freezing once again when he heard the familiar voice that not long ago brought him such peacefulness. “Remember his I said he was shot? Well he still has the wound, and one of the redcoats messed with it so I’m afraid an infection is likely to develop.” Washington said, tying to keep his voice steady from the thoughts that were currently racing across his mind.

“Shit, we gotta clean that up. Steven have we got any alcohol?”

“No.” Burr cut in looking at them all with a calmness John was _not_ feeling. “We’ve got to get away from here first, we’re a few hours away from our camp, now if you want one of you can fix him up on the road but we can’t stay here.”

John wanted to protest, to say that Alex’s health came first but Burr’s point was backed up when they heard too close gun shots coming from the red coats just down the hill.

John sat in the wagon with Alex lying down next to him. He looked so peaceful asleep and John resisted the urge to press a kiss to the man’s slightly parted lips. He’d missed him so much. He’d have to refrain himself from showing the man just how much until a later date when Alex was feeling better and they had a moment alone. Laurens around and his eyes immediately landed on Washington. The General’s horse trotted along side the cart, almost as if it’s rider was both trying to stay close to Alex- evident in the way his gaze kept shifting to the currently sleeping red head- but at the same time give them space. _What happened between them?_

Laurens wasn’t an idiot, as much as his comrades liked to jest, and he didn’t miss the deep seeded affection the man had for his boyfriend. During Alex’s time as a child, George took on the role of a father, it wasn’t superficial, it wasn’t an act, John knew the love he showed for Alex was true. _The man went headfirst into an enemies camp despite all common sense for Pete’s sake._ He loved Alexander like a son. _Like_ a son? John was almost convinced there was something more to it but that would be crazy… _right?_ But still, that didn’t explain why Washington was looking at Alex with such longing and heartbreak and why Alex hid away from him in betrayal. _Something_ must’ve happened. You don’t just blatantly ignore and dismiss your commanding officer, unless of course you’re _Hamilton_ , but Laurens knew the man had won the red heads hard earned respect before all this happened so he had absolutely no idea what could’ve happened. Did Alex remember anything? If he did it wouldn’t surprise John if he was just pulling away out of embarrassment but that didn’t explain the look of betrayal, Washington did everything right, he looked after him like his own. He’d have to question one of them later but for now John felt his eyes drifting closed- he hadn’t slept since the boy had been taken, hell he hadn’t slept _properly_ since Alex became a child as their room felt empty, cold without his presence. And now he was back, he couldn’t help but fall asleep to the sound of the horses trotting around them.

~~~~~

“We’re here.”

They made it back. They got back home and both, for the most part, well- Alex didn’t look like he was doing too well. It worried George how limp the boy’s body looked, and if it weren’t for the small shivers he did in the cold or the flutter of his eyelids, George would be tempted to reach over and check the boy’s pulse.

“Can someone call for a stretcher!” One of the men yelled. People were quick to come over and aid the three injured men- two had been shot during the battle- and George immediately went to Alex’s side as he was carried away before he was stopped. “Sir, good to see you’re okay, we need to go into headquarters there’s important business to be discussed.” The man, boy really, rambled, escorting him away from his currently injured son. _He can’t go, he needed to be with Alex._ He turned to move out of the much younger boys hold, to ignore everyone else and just be with his son before Laurens appeared at his side sending him an understanding look.

“I’ll take care of him sir. It’ll be alright.”

And damn it George wanted to protest, he needed to see for himself that his boy was being treated properly, that he was going to be okay. He’d already failed to be there for his son _so_ many times and he didn’t want to do it again. But the sincerity in John’s face somehow calmed him. He somehow knew Laurens would look after him. _My son would be safe with this man and probably a lot happier in his presence then he would be in mine_. So he nodded his head in affirmation and watched regretfully as the blonde scampered off to his boy’s side. The place he should and oh so desperately wanted to be.

Nevertheless, he let himself get dragged into headquarters and sat in front of a fire with General Greene and Knox as they caught him up on the state his army was in. He sat in the comfortable chair in warmth whilst his son was in some cold medical tent bleeding out.

He raced through missives from congress and wrote them a letter informing them of his return. He checked up on his Aides and went into camp to see the utter disrepair those unfortunate enough to remain in the camp for the winter were in, and he filed away the heap of complaints and demands he planned on informing congress on later today. Alex would’ve done a perfect job painting the image the half starved and frozen soldiers of his army were in. Though George still doubted it’d get it through their thick heads that they _needed_ more supplies.

He tried getting out of the various meetings he had to go to and tried getting away for just a moment to go check on his boy, but it was to no avail. He couldn’t even get word of how Alexander was doing until late next day when Laurens came in to collect his work to do it in the medical tent his son was currently in. _Lucky._

“How is he? Is he okay? Has he woken up?” He’d been properly unconscious last time he saw him and didn’t even wake up from all the movement and chaos going on around him as he was whisked away from George’s reach.

“He’d lost quite a lot of blood and the wound is infected. He’s gained a fever but the doctor doesn’t want to do any blood letting while he’s still so weak from the wound. He said we just have to pray the fever breaks soon.” John said with a sad smile that George presumed was meant to be comforting, before rushing back out with papers in arm. He just stood there frozen looking at the door the blonde just left out of. _A fever._

It wasn’t uncommon for his men to get ill under the harsh conditions they lived in. It _was_ however uncommon for them to recover from it, especially if they’re wounded. The image of his son dying while he just sat around in comfort made his guts churn. That can’t happen. Alex can’t die he only just found him. He only just got his son. He can’t leave him now, before George even got a chance to show him how much he loved him, a chance to be the father he should’ve been from the very start… _I need to see my son._

He ran out and stormed down the trail that would lead him to the medical tents. It was overpacked and some were even lying outside on the ground waiting for a spot to open up. He was glad to see his son wasn’t one of them. He made his way into the one on the left which was usually preserved for those of higher ranks, something George usually thought ludicrous and unfair but was currently grateful for. He was stopped by one of the nurses who insisted he shouldn’t go in, he could catch something. He just shoved the arm away and walked through. _I don’t care._ He scanned each cot until he finally saw the figure of Laurens placing a damp cloth to his boy’s forehead.

“Sir!” He exclaimed in surprise. “What are you-”

“Laurens can you give us a moment alone.” At the boy’s hesitant look he sighed “ _please?”_ He left giving Alex a small smile as he walked away and Washington suddenly came to the realisation that he didn’t really know what to say.

He looked down at his boy, who was currently trying to lift himself up a bit on his elbows. His skin looked flushed and there was a thin layer of sweat covering his body and his violet eyes were glazed and unfocused with fever. But George could tell he was still intelligible by how he eyed him up and down with hurt.

“Alexander? How are you feeling?” He didn’t get an answer past a small shrug and he knew the lack of conversation wasn’t due to the illness currently plaguing the boy’s body. George sighed and picked up the damp cloth John had left to wipe Alex’s brow as an excuse to make contact. He thankfully didn’t flinch away but did send George an incredulous look as he did it.

“Was it true?” Alex eventually slurred and he didn’t like how roar the boy’s voice sounded.

“Yes.” He stated and watched as Alex’s eyes flickered away. Eyes that… were now glistening with tears? That sent panic through George as he kneeled down to be face to face with his son.

“Alex? Alex what’s wrong? Please don’t cry son.” A sob broke loose from the boy’s throat when he heard the nickname that always managed to send longing through his heart.

“I— _why?_ ” He cried because that’s the only word racing through his head. Alex wasn’t even sure what he meant by ‘why’. _Why did you leave me? Why couldn’t you be there for me? Why am I getting a father now? —_

_Why do you want me?_

George reached out to stroke circles into the boy’s back. “I didn’t know.”

And Washington didn’t know what he’d done wrong this time but that answer just made the tears forming in the boy’s eyes roll down his cheeks.

“You didn’t know.” He stated it with such an emotionless finality that he half thought the boy was going to start screaming in anger at him. But he didn’t, he just kept crying and all George could do was watch and wait for it to end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait but I’ve got school again next week so I’m making sure to keep on top of online work 👌🏻 also gotten rly into Teen wolf if anyone’s seen it and honestly Stiles is a KING 👑 😂 ❤️


	17. Chapter 17

He was lost.

Alex found himself stuck in some kind of spiral staircase. No matter how many times he climbed up or down, he kept coming back to the same place. A candle that shone overhead was the only thing that gave light to the otherwise dark space. He didn't know where he was going but his path was never ending. It was dark and cold and he couldn't see anything except the stairs. He had to be somewhere....someplace but where? The fire dimmed and Alex’s breath hitched, the darkness suffocated him and he quickened his steps.

Suddenly the scene changed and he fell face first onto a hard floor, rolling a couple of times before coming to an abrupt stop. His chest burned with the need to get a breath of air, but he couldn’t _breathe_. "Is...Is anybody there?" he yelled into the darkness. "Somebody please...help me!" Why was he begging? He shouldn’t be begging. His subconscious wanted him to stop sounding so weak and needy but he wasn’t in control of his body. Alex saw a blurry figure come towards him. He pulled himself up straighter. "Hello? Can you help me? I'm..." his eyes widened when he saw just who the man was, it was his father. _No, apparently James isn’t my father. The term always applied loosely to him anyways. The man has no claim to me._ Still, Alex stepped back when he saw the empty beer bottle in the older man’s hand.

“You are not my son.” The man sneered, before hurling the bottle at him. Alex covered his head as shards of the now broken glass rained down on him. The first time James had said those words to him, Alex had been eight, not knowing just how true the statement was. He’d thought it just something his father had said to hurt him. Because it _did_ hurt. Despite being terrified of the man- at that age he still cared for his father, still _craved_ the man’s love in return. But now Alex knew the truth… did James know? Is that why he could never love me? When he looked up James had charged over to him. Why did he look so _big_? Alex involuntarily pressed himself against the wall, an attempt to stay as far away as possible from the looming man, practically towering over him. He grabbed Alex’s shirt and hoisted him up to his level. “You are not my son!” He repeated, voice so loud Alex could’ve sworn the walls started to shake.

One punch, two punch, a kick, a slap. They all blended together in an endless loop as Alex lay on the floor staring, unseeingly, into the darkness behind his so called father. That’s when he saw George. Just standing there, watching. Face emotionless as he watched the man who’d raised his son beat the living daylights out of him. Uncaring. Not present.

He heard someone call his name. The voice sounded familiar but he couldn’t place it in the blurred out haze he was now in. “Alex! Wake up it’s just a dream.” He felt drawn to the voice and slowly the figures faded away into the darkness of his mind. “Alexander?” His eyes flew open and he let out a gaspy breath as he shot up in the bed. “John?” He asked, blinking at the blonde staring at him with worry. “Are you okay? You were crying.” John placed a hand on his arm and Alex sunk into the warm touch.

He glanced around the room and was pleased to see he was in his and John’s bedroom in main building. His fever had for the most part died down yesterday and he was allowed to leave the medical tent on orders that he must take it easy for the next few days. As if he could do anything else with Laurens constantly babying over him. “I’m… I’m fine.”

“Why did that sound more like a question?” He admonished with an incredulous look. Alex wanted to be annoyed but he knew Laurens was only worried about him. “It was just a bad dream, I’m fine. And no, before you ask, I don’t remember it, so no I don’t wanna talk about it.” _Lies._ He remembered the dream quite clearly. And he could tell John knew that too but he was glad the man decided not to press him on it. He instead gave him a quick kiss and stood back up to continue what must’ve been his previous task, packing a satchel.

“Going somewhere?” He asked, sitting up in the bed to watch John frantically throw stuff at the bag. “Yeah umm… I’ve been given a mission to destroy some of our flour mills by Schuylkill River.” He said nervously as if he knew what Alex was going to say next. “But I was supposed to do that.” He wasn’t trying to sound whiny but that was the first proper mission he’d been given in ages. And right now he could really do with a break, to get away from everything for a while.

“Sorry darling, but you’re still in no place to be riding all the way up there. I’m sure there’ll be other stuff to do once you’re feeling a hundred percent.” _Yeah right, Washington rarely ever let me out of his sight then, back when he ‘didn’t know’, now he most definitely was not going to be letting me go out without ‘adult supervision’ as if I’m still a child._ It honestly quite angered him the way the General didn’t let him do anything. He may be his… _son_ but that still doesn’t excuse the favouritism. Besides even before he claimed to have found out, he _still_ never let him do anything. _How am I supposed to make a name of myself if I’m constantly stuck at his side?_

Laurens apparently saw the annoyance clear on his face as he kneeled on the bed and Alex was now locked in a gentle kiss. “We’ll continue this…” Laurens breathed against his neck “when I get back.” Much to Alex’s disappointment he then stood up again and lifted the bag over his shoulder. At least now he’ll be able to go down to the office and do some work… “and _no_ you will not be doing any paper work until I get back.” John said with an amused look when he saw Alex pout.

“Be safe.” He mumbled.

“Always, I’ll be back soon. Love you.”

“Love you.”

~~~~~

Okay so maybe he _didn’t_ listen to John when he said no work, but it’s not like he could just sit around in silence all day. Besides he’s a grown man nobody can tell him what to do… that doesn’t mean he’s still not going to blackmail everyone in the office to not tell John he was down there when he got back. It took him all of twenty minutes after John’s departure to be fed up of lying in bed, get dressed and make his way downstairs. When he walked into headquarters he immediately felt the stress leave his body at being in the work environment with all his friends. His desk was uncharacteristically empty as last time he’d gotten to go to work they were still in the tents so there was just a pot of ink and some empty parchments on the flat surface. Well that simply would not do.

He threw himself dramatically into his chair and got started. He wasn’t sure how much time passed before a voice drew him out of his trance. “And just what do you think you’re doing here?” Alex jumped in his chair in surprise and hit the now smirking man over the back of the head. “Tench,” Said man leaned against Alex’s desk and crossed his arms over his chest in disapproval. “What do you mean what am I doing here? I’m working, as you should be.”

“Laurens said you are supposed to be in bed.”

“Well last I checked Laurens wasn’t in charge of me.”

“What’s going on?” Alex froze. Washington strolled over to his desk, too absorbed in the letter he was holding to notice his son.

“Sir! I was just telling Hamilton here about this little thing called ‘taking care of yourself’. He seems to be worryingly lacking in knowledge of the subject, doctor said take it easy, he’s supposed to be on bed.”

“Snitch.” Alex bit out under his breath as he nervously looked at the General for his reaction. _I shouldn’t be this nervous, why am I so nervous? It doesn’t matter what he says. I shouldn’t care about his disapproval. As my commanding officer yes, he can tell me what to do, but other then that…_ He hadn’t seen George since that day in the medical tent when he’d been too feverish to really say or do or _think_ much. But he remembered feeling safe… Hurt and upset, yes, but he also remembered this feeling of safety and… _content_ when George came in and took care of him _._ He wasn’t sure why but maybe some deep part of him recognised him as his father. Maybe some part of him wanted them to be that way or maybe it was some remanent of the whole little Alex thing. He remembered feeling safe with George then too…

George just stared at the two debating what he should do. He hadn’t expected to see Alex there and was caught entirely off guard. He could tell Alex was too. They just stared at each other, no one speaking. _He looked well, Alex looked tired but well._ He couldn’t even begin to describe the relief he felt when Alex was let out of the tent, he was safer from catching anything else in the house. But that didn’t mean his son was out of the woods yet, not by a long shot. There just wasn’t enough space in the tents so he was let out as soon as the worst of the fever was over. He wanted to yell at the boy ‘son, don’t be so careless, get your but back into bed, work can wait.’ But he couldn’t say that. Still, he wasn’t going to let his son make himself ill again. “You should listen to the Doctor’s orders Hamilton, we need you in full working order.”

“And how are you going to determine when that is? I’m sorry sir but only I can know how well I feel and I’m telling you I feel perfectly fine.”

“Never the less you’ve just recovered from a horrible fever and your body is still weak from the wound. You’re going to get sick again if you don’t let yourself rest.” _Damn it Alex why can’t you just listen? Does he know how worried I was when he became so delirious from the fever he couldn’t even tell which way was up? How scared I was when his temperature was so high the doctor thought he might not make the night and I couldn’t even see him? Why can’t he just take a break for just a few days and let himself recover?_ This boy was going to be the end of me…

“But sir I’m fine right now and I can still write. There’s so much to get done and after all, isn’t that what I’m here for? I-”

“Damn it Alexander, you mean more to me then some paper work, son!” George exploded, abruptly standing up causing his chair to fall over behind him. Everyone in the room was silent as they stared at the seething General whose chest was rising and falling in a too fast pace, because _no, I can’t loose Alex. Not like that. Not after Jackie and Patsy._

Alexander just stared at him in shock. What he’d said was true, he could still do the work, it was his job but he’d mainly been trying to winde the older man up. He hadn’t expected him to break like that. He didn’t really know what to do. Washington just looked so scared and frustrated and Alex felt guilty and sad for causing him such heart ache. But… it also felt _good_ , it felt good to have someone care about him. To have someone worry about his health so much they literally explode. James never did…for as long as he could remember whenever he got sick or hurt the man still shoved him around the house and made him work and go out into town and pick pocket money and other stuff. Told him not to be weak. But right now he wasn’t being weak, or a baby, he was going to work and pushing past how he felt so why was George so upset? Suddenly he couldn’t handle it. All the worry, the love, the frustration. So he just got up, and he ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve started school again and it’s a new building and there’s so many stairssssss. There’s also this one way system thing so to get to another floor we have to go all the way down the stairs to the ground floor then all the way up them again and honestly that’s challenging for someone who spent their entire quarantine in bed 😂. I’m not sure how many chapters will be left of this because I’m not sure how to end it? Maybe one or two more I think and I’ve already planned each chapter of the sequel and I can’t wait to get to write that so it’ll be alright 👌🏻 ❤️


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